


This is My Idea

by MaraSenpai1997



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 'Enemies' to Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Swan Princess (1994) Fusion, Arranged Marriage, Character Development, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraSenpai1997/pseuds/MaraSenpai1997
Summary: To create an alliance between their kingdoms, an arranged marriage is created between Crown Prince Emil of Tschechien and  Princess Sara of Italien. Everyone is ecstatic, everyone but eight-year-old Michele, Crown Prince of Italien. Michele vows that he will make sure that before Sara turns eighteen, Emil will call off the marriage. Only it turned out that Emil was a force that he wasn't prepared for. A force of friendship, laughter and romantic feelings that shouldn't be there.It takes Michele:three years to realise that Emil isn't so bad.five to realise that Emil probably is his friend.seven years to realise that he's in love with his best friend.ten years to confess his feelings.





	1. Year I - Year III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick explanation of how the titles work. Example: Year I [8] Summer. => The year-count into the story [Age of the main-cast] and the season. (It's also partly a mnemonic for myself because it's quite a lot to remember.)

**Year I [8] Summer**

* * *

   
Sara elbowed him painfully, but that didn't stop Michele from glaring at the steadily approaching carriage. He didn't know all the details about his parents their arrangement, who could blame an eight-year-old for that, he cared little about politics after all. Nevertheless, he knew who was in that carriage. Sara's future husband.

Prince Emil was from the Kingdom of Tschechien and crown prince, which meant he would heir the throne, just like Michele. Hence the reason Sara, his little sister, was unable to take over the throne. So, eventually, she would have to marry someone else, preferably someone with a powerful position. Crown prince was pretty much the top of that. In the end, their parents striken a deal with the kingdom of Tschechien. They would create an alliance through marrying Sara and Emil. But, to make it feel less like a forced marriage, they also had decided to invited Prince Emil over for the summer, to get to know Sara.

"Mickey, behave," Sara whispered, stomping on his foot. "Dad said Emil is very kind, you shouldn't be so protective over me."

This did little to brighten Michele's mood. Admittedly, it probably made it even worse. It would be even worse if Emil were actually kind because it was hard to hate someone who was kind, even if they were going to marry his sister in the future.

To soon the carriage arrived. The coachman jumped of the box-seat, greeting Michele with faked enthusiasm. Why couldn't he just be professional and get the King and Queen out of the carriage?

As if listening to Michele's thoughts, the coachman walked up to the carriage and opened the door, offering his arm.

The first person who left the carriage was obviously the queen. She was pretty. Her hair was a brownish blonde colour and was long, longer than either Sara or his mother's hair. She had blue eyes, the same blue colour as the lake that lay close to the castle. But what was most noticeable was her stellar height. She towered over both his mum and dad.

The second person was the king, who was less impressive. He had short, brown hair with matching brown eyes and an impressive beard. He was shorter than the queen, about as tall as his own dad. The two of them greeted each other like old friends, shaking hands with broad smiles.

But as soon as the last person left the carriage, Michele no longer paid attention to the grown-ups. Crown Prince Emil was far from as impressive as Michele had expected him to be. Yes, he was taller than both him and Sara, probably by even quite a few centimeters, but that didn't matter. Michele surely would outgrow him, as his parents were still tall, not just as tall as Emil's mother. Next to the height, he had to same hair- and eye-colour as his mum, though his hair was cringeworthy messy and his clothes were crumpled. Why hadn't they bothered to fix him up before they had left the carriage, a first impression was of most importance!

"Hi!" Emil had a bright smile on his face, flashing his teeth. He was missing a few teeth. Wasn't he embarrassed by that? Michele barely dared to talk because people would see his missing teeth. "I'm Emil, you must be Princess Sara, right?"

Sara blushed and accepted Emil's outstretched hand. Michele was ready to jump between them, refusing his sister to be kissed by anybody else but him and their parents. But to his surprise, Emil just energetically shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Princess Sara."

His sister grew even redder in the face, her lips were pursed in a little pout. How could she fall for that? So many people called her Princess Sara, what was so different about Emil?

"And you must be Prince Michele, right?" Emil asked, now focussing himself on Michele.

Refusing to let his manners falter simply because he didn't like Emil, Michele bowed slightly and offered his hand. "Yes, you must be Crown Prince Emil, right?"

Emil blinked, eyes shimmering in the rising sun. "Emil is just fine, Prince Michele," he offered, shaking Michele's hand.

Sara giggled and throwing her arm around Michele's shoulder, enjoying the fact that she was a few centimetres taller than he was. "If we can call you Emil you can call me Sara," she said, pinching Michele as he made a protesting noise. "And you can call him Mickey- I always call him Mickey anyway."

"Sara," he protested, throwing a glare her way. But the damage had been done.

Smiling brightly, Emil bowed politely. "Then Sara and Mickey it will be," he said toothly, eyes crinkling with life. "I'm looking forward to the summer."

Michele huffed, crossing his arms. He wasn't looking forward to the summer, at all. But, there was one consolation price. He could keep a close eye on Emil, making sure that he wouldn't do anything mean to Sara. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could even discourage Emil in marrying Sara because they would rarely spend time together. Yes, that sounded like a good plan, and later, when they were older, Sara would be grateful that Michele saved her from marrying someone like Emil.

   
**Year II [9] Summer**

* * *

 

Michele hated his parents. One summer with Emil was already bad enough, particularly since Michele struggled to hate the prince. Emil was funny, kind and foremost, he never mistreated Sara, once. Actually, he’s the only other male friend Sara had next to Michele, as most boys bullied her. But, after the summer, Michele had never expected to see Emil again till both Sara and he were old enough to marry. He had been wrong. Emil was invited over to spend another summer with them, to Sara's enjoyment and Michele's displeasure.

Roaming through the hallway of the palace, Michele wondered if he could avoid Emil for the rest of the summer. His plan to stick close to Emil had backfired, as he actually started to like Emil. The dark-blond was just someone hard to dislike. So, avoiding seemed the best way to enjoy the summer.

"Crown prince, shouldn't you be with Prince Emil and Princess Sara?" his nursemaid asked, smiling kindly.

Shrugging, Michele tried not to scowl too much. "I'll let them be," he pouted, crossing his arms. "I don't like Emil much."

The nursemaid raised a thin eyebrow, eyes set with amusement. "You don't like him because he is going to marry Princess Sara," she pointed out. "If he were just a friend, the two of you probably would get along easily."

"I doubt that," Michele mumbled, though he had to admit she was right. If Emil were just one of the kids, he probably wouldn't hate him that much. Emil wouldn't be able to marry Sara because she's a princess and he wouldn't have been a prince. And if they couldn't get married, Emil would just be Sara's friend. Michele would keep the position of Sara’s best friend, but Emil was kind enough to be Sara's friend.

Shaking her head in what must be a disappointment, the nursemaid left Michele on his own. Wandering through the hallways, Michele wondered how he was going to spend the day. As it was sunny outside, Sara and Emil probably were outside, spending time in the gardens. It seemed that in Tschechien, they didn't have many gardens due to the lack of space. Their garden, however, was beautiful and famous. Famous because Sir Iglesia was the one who created it. The man was known and respected by many royalties, as he created the most beautiful gardens in the entirety of the world. So, as going outside wasn’t go, the library seemed to be his option. Michele wasn't the biggest fan of the library, it was rather stuffy and dull inside, but it at least was a safe place away from his sister and Emil.

It seemed, however, that fate had different plans for him. It probably was a punishment from the fact that Michele had eaten the last slice of cake a few days ago. Why would he pass on it? It had been late in the night, and the chefs would most likely refuse to cook anything for him. So, now fate was getting back at him by letting him run into Emil.

"Hey, Mickey!" Michele cringed by hearing his nickname. Why had Sara told Emil he could call him that?

Turning around, trying to keep his cool, Michele sought out Emil. Michele had proudly grown quite a few centimetres over the course of the year, nearly catching up with Emil's height. At least, assuming Emil wouldn't have grown. Of course, Emil just had to grow, probably grown as much as Michele had done. After all, he saw no difference between them compared to last year. Emil was still a solid ten centimetres taller than him.

"Hi, Emil," Michele mumbled, trying to keep a smile on his face. "Why are you inside? It’s very sunny outside."

Emil's face brightened up. "I know, the weather here is so much better than back home in Tschechien," he seemed lost for words for a few moments before Emil's eyes lit up, probably remembering whatever he had wanted to say. "Say, are you free?"

"Yes," Michele answered honestly, mentally scolding himself that he should just lie to Emil. A white lie wasn't a bad thing. "Depends," he hurriedly added, realising that otherwise, Emil could rope him in all kind of shenanigans.

Clapping his hands together in satisfaction, Emil grinned broadly, showing more missing teeth. Poor guy. "If you have time, could you play referee? Me and Sara are competing who can swing the highest on the swings, but it's hard to judge each other."

"That's very dangerous," Michele snapped, already imagining Sara launching herself off the swing by accident and hurting herself.

Emil looked very disappointed. "Oh, right. That's true," he admitted sheepishly. "So that's a no?"

While yes, Michele wasn't in a mood to get outside, watching his sister and her future husband having fun, he knew Sara well enough. If Michele declined Emil's request, they would find someone else to referee, or even do it without a referee. This meant Sara could seriously hurt herself due to her competitive spirit. So, the 'no' wasn't go, as Sara surely would get herself in trouble.

"It's a yes."

The expression that Emil pulled was cute. The dark-blond blinked owlishly, staring at Michele in wonder, probably not expecting that answer.

"Really?" Emil's asked excitedly.

Nodding, Michele hoped that he wouldn't regret this. He probably would. Though, following Emil towards the gardens, he did wonder why they asked him of all people.

Catching up with Emil, Michele blurted out the question that plagued his mind. "Why me though?"

"Well... you see," Emil drew out the last word, grinning. "You have good eyes- like, you probably could easily see who had swung the highest."

He had good eyes? What?

Ignoring the sun stinging his skin the moment he stepped outside, Michele didn't let the subject rest. "What do you mean with 'good eyes'? They're the same as Sara's."

Michele hissed as he realised he had sounded rather rude. Looking shyly at his future brother in law, he saw Emil looking slightly panicked. "I mean, you have a good sense of debt and stuff, remember that you killed that wasp in one strike last year?"

Digging up the memory, Michele slowly nodded. Both Sara and Emil had been hysterical, not daring to come near the creature. Not liking to see his sister in such distress, Michele had pushed away his own fear and had picked up one of the study books they were reading. With one swipe, Michele had squashed the creature. It had been luck, but he wasn't going to tell Emil that.

"Well, I told my parents, and they said you must have good eyes," Emil explained, gesturing wildly with his arms. "So, because you have good eyes, I assumed you could see what swing had swung the highest."

Emil's logic made sense, and if even Emil's parents, the King and the Queen of Tschechien, said that he probably had good eyes, then he had good eyes. Maybe his good eyes would be useful in the future.

A sudden realisation dawned upon him. "Wait, you talk with you parents about me?" Michele was convinced he looked as surprised as he sounded.

Nodding frantically, Emil smiled. "Yes, of course! We'll be family, we also had spent a lot of time together during the summer, remember?" he pointed out. "How else could I tell them about my adventures without mentioning you?"

This wasn't exactly the response Michele had expected. Ducking his head, Michele felt his face grow hot. He hoped that Emil wouldn't notice or blame the flush on the heat. Because, while Sara and Michele were used to the somewhat extreme temperatures, Emil was most definitely not.

Why has Emil be so likeable? It was much easier to hate a guy he didn't like than a guy he actually liked. Emil wasn't a bad person, yet he still had to marry his baby sister. Why couldn't Emil just be a jerk and make things easier for him?

  
**Year III [11] Winter**

* * *

 

Their third summer together had been cancelled. The Queen of Tschechien had grown ill, nothing major as she recovered swiftly, but as it happened just before their trip to Michele's kingdom, they had cancelled Emil's third visit. Of course, Michele had been overjoyed, happy that Emil wouldn't roam the walls of the castle this year.

However, he was confused why the summer had been so... boring. Things had been perfectly fine before Emil had visited them for the summer, so why did it suddenly had gotten so dull? Michele didn't know and thinking about it left him with a headache.

Yet, despite the boring summer, Michele wasn't longing to see Emil again. It was peacefuler without him, and the peace and quiet were welcoming. However, his parents had different plans. A week into the winter, his parents announced that Emil would be staying with them for the remainder of the winter to catch up on the missed time. Sara had been overjoyed, Michele had been grumpy, and the whole castle staff had gone into full cleaning mode, trying to fix everything before the crown prince of Tschechien arrived.

Like the previous year, Michele had hoped he could avoid Emil during the prince's stay. Sadly enough, Sara had decided that it was the perfect opportunity for them to bond. Bond in the form of skating.

Standing at the edge of the frozen waters, Michele threw a dirty look Sara's way. His sister, however, just giggled and gave him two thumb ups. He wasn't a big fan of skating, it was more Sara's thing. She had so much more grace than he had, plus she had yet to fall once while Michele regularly fell on his behind, struggling to keep his balance.

Giving the ice a dreadful look, Michele moved his gaze to Emil. Thankfully, Emil looked rather unsure, the nose of his boot carefully prodding the frozen surface.

"Are you sure this won't break?" Emil asked nervously.

Sara shrugged, not helping Emil much.

"It's safe," Michele added, taking a careful step onto the ice. "It usually is around this time. The ice is very thick, so you probably won't fall trough it."

Emil visibly paled. "But what if I'm too heavy?" the boy sounded genuinely scared.

"It can hold my father," Michele pointed out. "And it never had even cracked when I skated on it."

"But you're about two hands than I," Emil mumbled, causing Michele to growl in annoyance. Why had Emil to rub the salt into the wound? Sara now actually had outgrown him, the height difference clearly seeable. Emil was still tall, their gap in height hadn't changed from the very first time met.

Ignoring the urge to scold Emil that height was a sensitive topic, Michele carefully stepped on the ice. Stabilized, he took a few reluctant steps and eventually dared to glide a bit. Feeling secure on the ice, he went over to Emil and offered his hand.

"You could hold onto me till you're uncomfortable," Michele suggested, hoping that the smile on his face wasn't too forced. "Plus I can swim so if the ice breaks, I probably can keep both of us up."

The last bit was a lie. While yes, he could swim, swim well, he probably couldn't keep both himself and Emil above the surface while laying in ice-cold water. But, seeing how Emil's expression relaxed significantly, Michele decided that the lie wasn't such a bad lie. The ice was too thick to break anyway, plus the water was very shallow, Emil was probably tall enough to be able to touch the bottom.

"Okay. Okay- I, um," Emil nervously hopped from one foot to the other, eyeing Michele's outstretched hand nervously. "I trust you on this."

Carefully, Emil grabbed Michele's hand and stepped on the ice, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. For a brief moment, Emil wobbled on the spot, struggling to find his balance, but eventually, the prince managed. Smiling brilliantly, Emil took a step forwards, probably more sure about his capabilities on the ice.

That was a mistake. You should never trust the ice. Emil slipped. Eyes were blown big, a panicked yell was thrown in the air. Michele, who was still holding Emil's hand, was pulled along. With a loud thud, Emil landed on the ice. Michele followed a few seconds after, his fall mostly cushioned by Emil himself.

Groaning- Michele had forgotten how much it hurt to fall- he got into a sitting position, ignoring the fact his behind was freezing off. "The ice is slippery," he pointed out dryly. "But I guess you already figure that out."

Emil grunted and pushed his body into a sitting position. "I'm sorry," he apologised, running a hand through his messed-up hair. "For pulling you down with me."

Ignoring Sara's unneedy loud laughter, Michele shrugged. "It's fine- you caught up most of my fall," he admitted, his face warming up.

"Thank Heavens- I was so worried you got seriously hurt," Emil admitted, fidgetted nervously on the ice.

A few seconds passed, and Emil rubbed his nose, which was a habit Michele had noticed a while ago. Emil was nervous or embarrassed. At least, there was something on his mind. "Say, Mickey. Is it normal that my butt is freezing off?"

Flustered, Michele basically barked his response. "Don't use that word, and yes, it's because the ice is freezing. We've to get up because our shoes are the only thing that is fit for touching the ice."

For a brief moment, Emil looked puzzled, probably not understanding Michele's distaste for the word butt. However, soon after, Emil looked amazed.

"Really?" he asked, eyes bright with curiosity. "So we can only touch the ice with our shoes?"

Nodding, Michele struggled to get up on two feet but managed. Emil, on the other hand, struggled so much that Michele had to help. That resulted in them nearly crashing down once again, only this time Emil managed to regain his balance.

Noticing that Emil was still holding his hand, the one he had used to pull Emil up, Michele cleared his throat. "Now, could you let go of my hand?"

Emil grew flustered but didn't let go of his hand. "Can I hold it a bit longer?" Emil asked, a shy smile on his face. "I feel, well, more secure if you hold my hand."

When Emil whooped in joy because Michele had agreed, he wondered if Emil had been a girl, Michele would've been the one in an arranged marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me a round of applause because, for the first time, I'm writing a multi-chapter story that's actually plotted out. So, there officially will be six chapters and if everything goes as planned, there will be a weekly update on the weekend. (Will be aiming for Friday evening/Saturday, but hey, college is an ass.)
> 
> **Fun fact:**  
>  Because I'm _very_ creative as a writer, the names of the kingdoms are based off Italy and Czech Republic in German. So Italien is Italy and Tschechien is Czech Republic in German The second contender had been Italië and Tsjechië, but I was too lazy to take the umlaut into account each time. (I'm a lazy ass.)


	2. Year IV & Year V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unconsciously, Michele promotes Emil from his future brother-in-law to friend, plus there is dancing and archery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My hand slipped, enjoy!

**Year IV [11] Summer**

* * *

 

As they had gotten older, now they all were close to hitting the prime age of twelve, the summers were no longer just about fun. Sara had her weekly sewing, cooking and studying sessions, which left only a couple of days left to have fun and be free. Michele had been put on sword-fighting and studying like his sister, though he studied not with her. Instead, he was stuck with Emil during that, just like the sword-fighting classes. There was, however, a few moments in the week he could avoid Emil with ease.

 

Archery lessons. Michele soon had noticed he and the sword weren't exactly good companions, and, knowing that he has a proper eye-sight and good eye for debt, he had requested if he could take on archery lessons. His parents hadn't minded, not seeing it as a waste of time, particularly since it didn't cut into his study sessions. It soon had turned out Michele had a knack for archery, soon surpassing the other people his age. But, as he was still young, his parents refused to let him practice with the adult, so he was stuck practising on his own in his free time. But, as neither Sara or Emil knew about his archery classes, Michele could use these moments to have some peace and quiet.

 

Inhaling through his nose, Michele squeezes his left eye shut and aimed. While his overall feel for depth and the bow was good, he still struggled with other factors, like position and the strength of the wind. Settling down on a slight error on the right, Michele let bowstring go. The arrow flew through the air and landed on the target, though there was still quite an error. Why was archery so hard? With a sword, you didn't have to take into account what the wind was doing.

 

Loading up his second arrow, Michele took the error in account once again and readied to loose the arrow.

 

"Hey, Mickey!"

 

It took Michele way too much willpower not to curse as the arrowhead buried itself in an entirely different tree. The shot would probably have been perfect, or at least better than his previous one. But of course, Emil had to ruin his opportunity of redemption.

 

"Emil," Michele hissed, turned around so he could point his glare Emil's way. "Are you crazy? That could've been you!"

 

Smiling sheepishly, Emil offered Michele a genuinely apologetic smile. "Sorry, I was just surprised to see you here," he added, voice cracking.

 

Grinning slightly, Michele stepped closer to Emil, satisfyingly taking in their height difference, again. Emil had barely grown during the span of a year, maybe a couple of centimetres. Michele, on the other hand, had actually _grown_. From about ten centimetres to five centimetres. Maybe, by next year, Michele had officially caught up with Emil.

 

Stepping back, realising they were standing too close for just friends, Michele asked the question that was on his mind. "Why are you here anyway? Unless you went on some extreme exploring you wouldn't find this place," he pointed out. The forest that was used for archery practice was quite a trip from the palace, probably a twenty-minute walk. Nobody would just wander there by accident.

 

"Well..." Emil mumbled, growing rapidly flustered in the face. "My parents had insisted on me learning archery- you know, as we do a lot of hunting in Tschechien," he explained. "I asked someone, and they send me over to here, one of the guards if I'm correct."

 

Michele already had a faint idea who the guard was. Most guards didn't bother with Emil, deciding that if he had questions, he should ask the royal family, Sara and him, or the servants in the castle. The guards had no time to babysit someone, they were there to protect. Only the younger, more adventurous ones bothered to help out- and there was one, in particular, Michele knew that loved to annoy Michele. It probably was Jean-Jacques, or JJ because the name was too long. After thinking about it for a few more seconds, Michele was convinced it had been JJ. The jerk loved messing with him.

 

"Well, JJ wasn't wrong," Michele mumbled, as this indeed were the practice grounds. "Classes for the younger ones are here- after our sword-training and before our second study session."

 

Cocking his head to the right, Emil threw him a confused look. "Then why are you here? Classes should've finished at least an hour ago."

 

"I prefer to practise alone," Michele lied. For whatever reason, it didn't felt right to boast about the fact he was ahead of his class, nor did it felt right to tell Emil that his fellow peers didn't exactly liked him, or, actually, disliked him.

 

"But isn't that boring?" Emil scrunched up his nose, reminding Michele a bit of a rabbit. But Emil wasn't a rabbit, rabbits were cute, small and fluffy. Emil was just fuzzy, or at least his hair looked fluffy. "Practising all on your own?"

 

Shrugging, Michele picked up the third arrow out of his quiver. Emil probably wouldn't leave anytime soon, and while basically the host, Michele refused to entertain Emil. He had nothing to do with Emil, he was Sara's fiancé, not his.

 

"You'll get used to it," he eventually answered, pulling the bowstring. "People at least aren't bothering you."

 

Michele let out a frustrated noise as the third arrow completely missed the target, digging its head into the tree next to the one he had been aiming for. "Come on," he whined, stamping the ground in annoyance.

 

"Maybe you should relax more?" came Emil's unwanted help. "I mean, I have no clue about archery, but I'm pretty sure you being tense and rigid won't help."

 

Grumbling under his breath, Michele trusted the bow in Emil's arms. "Here, try yourself," he mumbled, deliberately avoiding eye contact. "If you think you know it- I surely can help a bit, and it seems that today isn't just my day."

 

He wasn't going to say that Emil's presence did something to him. Michele was pretty sure he had said he didn't like company when he was practising, yet Emil hadn't bothered to leave, at all. If there were the 'nicest guy' award, Emil most definitely would win that one. Any girl would be lucky to have him as their future husband.

 

After a while of only hearing Emil mumbled under his breath, Michele dared to spare the prince a glance. Emil looked completely and utterly lost, trying to hold the bow in just the right way. He was doing it completely wrong, unsurprisingly. 

 

"Come here," Michele bustled, touching Emil's arm without any hesitation. "You have to bend your elbow like this, and you have to straighten your back, haven't your parents taught you anything about posture?"

 

Marvelled by how easily Emil got flustered, it took Michele a bit to regain his focus on helping Emil with archery and not to stare at his future brother-in-law's face.

 

Giving Emil more instructions, remember everything from his own classes, Emil seemed to pick up the basics decently fast, at least faster than most of his old classmates. Admittedly, Emil was probably twice, if not thrice, as determined to get the hang archery.

 

"You did well," Michele admitted, offering Emil a tired smile as they returned to the palace. "I think you easily can join the classes if you want."

 

Michele was surprised to see Emil shake his head. "Nah, I think I'll come practice after hours. I think in a few more days I'll get the hang of the basics and then it's practising."

 

Realising what Emil was implying, Michele smiled shyly, hoping that Emil wouldn't catch on. "That would be pretty nice, actually," he admitted, face growing steadily hot. "I quite enjoyed today, admittedly, it's a bit lonely practising by yourself."

 

"I told you," Emil chirped, not sounding all that victorious for someone who had realised he had been right all along. "Now we both can use the hours Sara spends on tailoring classes for extra archery practice- maybe I can make my parents proud by the end of the summer."

 

"I think," Michele started, hesitating whenever he should continue or not. "That they already are proud."

 

Because they should. Emil was kind, cared a lot about others, was willing to work hard to achieve what he wants. But he was also smart, though not brilliant, knew how to get along with people and was just an overall joy to be around. Even Michele struggled to hate this guy, actually scrap that, who was he kidding, he didn't hate Emil, at all. Emil surely would make a good king in the future, and Sara surely would make a good queen, as they complimented each other well. Maybe there was no stopping the marriage.s

 

**Year V [12] Summer**

* * *

 

Michele wasn't a prodigy. On the ice during the winter months, he was decent, at least better than Emil at holding his balance. But he lacked the grace Sara had. At archery, he was good. Emil wasn't bad at it either, at least better than Sara who had given up after a few tries, deeming it unneccery. But if there was a thing he was terrible at it was dancing.

 

While still too young to actually having to dance, bigger birthday celebrations started to inch closer. With that in mind, the king and queen had decided to give them ballroom classes. To kill two birds with one stone, Emil's parents had decided that Emil would tag along, deciding that it would be a useful way to spend the summer instead of running around, playing in the lake or rolling around the dirt.

 

"I can't believe the two of you are so bad at this," Sara pointed out, hands resting on her hips. "I never stepped on either of your toes _once_. The two of you, on the contrary," still glaring at the two princes, Sara rubbed her slightly swollen toes. "My toes have passed away, deceased, dead."

 

Cowering under Sara's glare, Michele shared a sheepish look with Emil. Because Sara was a girl, she had been forced into the following position, giving the two princes the chance to learn how to lead. Only this had resulted in them to stumble, trip or step on Sara's feet way too often.

 

"I already apologised," Michele mumbled, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I can't help it that I'm not good at _everything_."

 

A nasty glare was thrown his way. "I'm not saying that, but I'm saying you could _try_ at least. Do you even put any effort into this?"

 

"Of course I do," Michele snapped, glaring unapologetic at his sister. Where were the good times Sara didn't get on his nerves every waking second?

 

Sara was about to snap back but Emil, being the angle he was, managed to throw himself between the crossfire. "Sara, please, we both are trying, but neither of us has the grace you have," seeing that Sara wasn't going to bark back, Emil continued. "We both know that Mickey works hard- all of us work hard, but sometimes it just takes more time."

 

Michele was grateful for the fact that Sara had a soft spot for Emil. She had no issues growling and lashing out at him, but Emil has to try his best to get Sara angry.

 

"Okay, I'm sorry, I guess I was sort of outline," Sara mumbled, arms crossed in a defensive position. "But I won't practice with the two of you until you can actually _dance_. Now, if you excuse me," the princess got up, still grumpy looking but no longer fuming. "I've better things to do."

 

The girl basically stomped out of the ballroom, leaving both Michele and Emil behind.

 

"I miss the moments that she wasn't moody all the time," Michele sulked, hugging his legs to his chest. "Now all she wants is growing up- she's thirteen."

 

Emil shrugged and leant against Michele, shoulders fitting snugly together. Both were about the same height now, the difference barely noticeable. Maybe, in a few years, Michele would actually outgrow Emil, and then finally, the tables would turn. Though, for now, Sara was the tallest of them, finally having outgrown Emil over the course of a year.

 

"Let her be, I would say," Emil whispered, sounding as disappointed as Michele felt. "If she wants to grow up, let her. Sooner or later, she'll come around. I mean, she's you sister, after all."

 

Snorting, Michele softly punched Emil's tigh. "She's also your fiancée. You'll be stuck with her forever once you both turn eighteen."

 

He actually regretted bringing that up. Surprisingly, even after knowing his friend- yes, friend- for at least four years, Michele had never asked Emil's thoughts about marrying his sister. He was aware that Sara didn't really mind, at least, the last time they had talked about it. After all, Emil was kind and, to quote Sara's words 'cute'. Michele had agreed, Emil was cute. He didn't have this so-called 'rugged-handsome' look that many of their so-called 'peers' were aiming for. He was just young and innocent, with fluffy hair and eyes bright with wonder.

 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned that,” Michele admitted, a flush heated up his cheeks. “I have no right to discuss that with you.”

 

“Mickey,” Emil whispered, sending chills running down Michele's spine. Why did he react like that?

 

"It’s fine, really," Emil assured, leaning further into the touch. "I mostly ignore it and just have fun, getting to know both of you. I'll worry about the whole arranged marriage thing as soon as it happens."

 

He had honestly never thought about it like that. It made sense. The entire reason for Emil to come over for the summer was to get to know Sara and get to know Michele to some extent. Though to be honest, Michele had the feeling he was closer to Emil then Sara was, which made little sense.

 

Being shoved playfully by Emil, Michele refocused himself on Emil. "So, what're we going to do now?" the other asked, a familiar lopsided smile on his face.

 

Pondering for a brief moment, Michele felt himself smiling. Pushing himself onto two feet, he offered his hand out to Emil. "Want to practice with me?" he asked, watching with joy as Emil grew red in the face.

 

"Oh, sure," a shy blush covered Emil's face as he accepted Michele's outstretched hand. Pulling Emil up, they stood rather close to one another, but it wasn't uncomfortable as it had been in the previous years they had known each other.

 

"So," Emil drew out the 'o'. "Who's going to lead."

 

Still holding onto Emil's hand, Michele shrugged. He hadn't thought about that yet- maybe his so called 'genius' idea wasn't so bright as he thought it had been.

 

"I don't really care that much," Michele admitted. It was all about learning the rhythm and controlling his feet after all. The position shouldn't be that much fo an issue.

 

Emil looked as lost as Michele felt. "I doesn't matter to me either," he admitted, grinning shyly. "But I wouldn't mind with leading- though I probably will step on your feet."

 

Still holding onto Emil's hand, Michele placed his other hand on the prince's shoulder. Emil's free hand went to his lower back, taking the same position as he had done with Sara.

 

"Are you ready for this?" Emil asked, smiling cheerfully.

 

Feeling surprisingly at ease, Michele grinned. "I could ask the same, I have stepped on Sara's toes so many times I lost count."

 

Deciding that it was a yes, Emil pulled Michele onto the dancefloor, trying to dance on the non-existing music.

 

Trying to avoid stepping on Emil's feet, Michele let himself being led away. To his surprise, he actually liked this position more than the leading one, as it was easier to follow, as he didn't have to focus on where they were going.

 

"This is going surprisingly- ouch," immediately, Emil shot him an apologetic look, creating more space between them by stepping back.

 

Gritting his teeth, refusing to complain about the pain, Michele nodded and let Emil continue.

 

They were pretty even with stepping on each other their feet. Despite leading, Emil managed to keep toe-stepping to a minimum, the same minimum Michele managed to reach while being the one following.

 

Mid what probably was the third routine, Michele managed to trip over virtual nothing. While not the clumsy type overall, dancing seemed to bring out the worse in him, both of them, actually. To his surprise, Emil managed to catch him mid-fall, making it look like a poorly executed dip.

 

Staring at each other sheepishly, Michele was confused why his heart was still pounding like crazy. He mentally already had prepared himself for falling, and it wasn't like this would be the first time the day that he would land on his behind. Yet, something about Emil's smile made his throat run dry, and heart beat unnecessary fast.

 

As soon as the first one blinked, which was Emil in this case, the two burst out in roaring laughter. Emil loosened his balance, and both crashed down on the floor, but neither of them even mentioned it.

 

"I can't believe," Michele wheezed, chest heaving slowly. "That my cause of death probably will be dancing of all things."

 

Laughing along, Emil mumbled a soft 'I know', face hidden behind an arm.

 

It took a surprisingly long amount of time to recover from the sudden laughing-fit. Giggling slightly, not yet fully back to his serious mindset, Michele sat up, wiping away a few tears. "I feel sorry for the girls I have to dance with, they probably will all have swollen feet like Sara at the end of the night."

 

"Well, it makes things easier," Emil mumbled, finally removing his arm away from his beef-red face. "You know that your future wife doesn't want to dance with you."

 

Rolling his eyes, Michele threw Emil a pointed look. " _If_ I find a wife. I mean, I think all girls like dancing, gives them the opportunity to show off their flowy dresses. Who wants to marry a man who doesn't like to dance."

 

"I wouldn't mind, I think."

 

Michele's breath caught in his throat, making him unable to speak another word. It was nothing. Emil wasn't saying that he wanted to marry him- he was saying that Emil wouldn't mind marrying someone who didn't like to dance.

 

"Same," Michele agreed, trying not to ruin the mood. "Though I still can, you're pretty much out of luck with Sara, she loves dancing."

 

An unfamiliar distant look formed on Emil's face and Michele realised that for the second time, he had mentioned Emil's engagement with Sara again.

 

"Then we have still quite some practice to do," Emil recovered, a cheerful smile on his face, though Michele noticed that it had yet to reach his eyes. "Hopefully, in a few years and a few summers later, both of us can actually properly dance."

 

Following Emil's example and getting up, Michele retook his position as the follower. "Fat chance," he assured Emil, glad to see his forced grin bloom in a genuine smile. "I think I'm born to be terrible at dancing."

 

"That makes two, I guess," Emil grinned. "Well, at least we have something to complain about to each other once we grow older and we're forced to suit up for formal events."

 

"I think I like the sound of that," Michele admitted, letting himself begin swept away by Emil's enthusiastic attempt to properly dance.


	3. Year VI & Year VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship shouldn't come with... well, weird feelings.

**Year VI [14] Winter**

* * *

 

He and Sara had their on-and-off moments. Most often, they could strangle each other, sometimes, on rare moments, they could get along greatly, enjoying their time together as brother and sister. Today was one of those rare moments. Michele was sitting cross-legged on Sara's bed, braiding her hair. The princess in question was flicking trough a study book, not really taking in what she was reading.

 

"Hey, Mickey, can I ask you something?" the girl asked out of the blue, stopping her mindless motion of flicking trough the pages. "And don't say 'you just did', that isn't funny."

 

Offended by the accusation, Michele tugged Sara's hair a bit harder than necessary. His sister didn't even flinch. "That's Emil's thing," he pointed out, continuing to braid his sister's long hair. "But yes, you can always ask, though an answer isn’t guaranteed."

 

"Do you like Emil?"

 

Making choking noises that fitted a dying animal, Michele narrowly managed to save Sara's braid from falling apart. "What do you mean with that?" his voice cracked and now more than ever he cursed that puberty had hit him. Couldn't it have waited for a bit?

 

Michele was pretty much convinced that Sara just rolled her eyes. "I mean as friends, you dumbass. You two seem... close. I swear you hated the guy when you first met."

 

Feeling his heart-rate slow down, the prince let out a humming noise and continued his handy-work. "I didn't like him because he is going to marry you," he pointed out. "But he seems like an okay guy, so yeah, I have no reason to really hate him anymore."

 

As he had finished the braid, Sara actually looked back at him, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "Okay guy? Mickey, really?" she said, mirroring her visual disbelief in her voice. "You're joined at the hip- you spend the entirety of the last summer together either practising ballroom dancing or archery. This year you were devastated by the news that he wouldn't come for the summer due to work on the road but the moment dad told you Emil would stay the winter, you looked like Christmas came early. How does that make him an 'okay guy'?"

 

Growing flustered in the face, Michele looked down at his lap. He hadn't even realised it. Emil simply had become a part of his life. His childish hatred hadn't lasted long, and fairly, he enjoyed his friendship with Emil. After all, they sooner or later would be family, and the last thing he wanted was hating Sara's husband.

 

"Does it matter?" Michele whispered, clenching his fists nervously. "I mean, am I not allowed to spend time with Emil?"

 

Sara blinked in confusion, and Michele just realised he had growled at her. Was it really that weird to spend so much time with your sister's fiancé?

 

"You're, I'm just surprised by how much time," she admitted, a faint blush darkening her cheeks. "It seems you care more about him than I do- which is, well..."

 

Now it was Michele's turn to be confused. Staring at his sister in a sheepish manner, the prince tried to comprehend what Sara was saying. "But you also spend time with him, right?"

 

Michele was greeted by a guilty look on Sara's face. "Not nearly as much as you," she admitted, biting on her bottom lip out of habit.

 

He hadn't even realised. But now she mentioned it, Michele seemed to spend an insanely amount of time together with Emil, and Sara was rarely with them. She often was too busy with her own stuff, and if not, she usually didn't find their so-called 'childish' behaviour interesting.

 

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I could spend less time with him? That way you can get closer to him and-"

 

"No!" Sara basically shouted before shrinking back, eyes filled with guilt. "I- you're happy and so is Emil. Currently, Emil and I have nothing in common. I find archery boring, he doesn't care about dressing up or do my hair. While I rather drink tea outside in the sun, Emil goes swimming or climbing trees. Altogether, we don't really fit together interest-wise. Maybe, if Emil matures a bit, his interest might change but for now..." she shook her head.

 

Sara had a point. While Emil and Sara were the same age, actually, Emil was older because he had his birthday earlier than them, they were both in a different part of their life. Sara was already growing mature, thinking about her future as a queen and about the way she had to live. Emil, on the other hand, was still enjoying life to it's fullest, not caring that he was supposed to rule a kingdom one day.

 

"But, I don't exactly like those things either," Michele pointed out. "I like archery, but I don't roll around in the dirt or swim in lakes. I usually just watch and talk with Emil, or, well, Emil does most of the talking," the memories forced a soft smile on Michele's face. "I just listen," he added in a whisper.

 

"Don't you see, that's the difference," Sara pointed out, eyes set with determination. "You just adjust yourself to the situation while I just decide to give up. I- does Emil hates me? Dislikes me? What about the idea of the two of us marrying- is he already considering calling it off?"

 

Michele stared at his sister in confusion. "Emil? Hating you? That guy is like a puppy, he simply _can't_ hate people."

 

How could Sara even think that? Maybe he had indeed spend to much time with Emil, but anybody who knew the crown prince longer than a day knew that Emil was way too kind for his own good. Probably, if his wife had been bossier than Sara was, he might be completely trampled by her.

 

"Yes, but, he could be disappointed with me- why wouldn't he be? We have nothing in common?" it broke Michele's hear to hear his sister so distressed. Though, on the other hand, it wasn't his problem.

 

"Sara, you know I can't do anything for you," Michele mumbled, gently patting her hand. "It's all up to you what you want to do with Emil and your relationship. All I can do is spend less time with him- but as you're against that."

 

Sliding off the bed, Michele stepped in his boots.

 

"Where are you going?" Sara asked.

 

Securing his laces, Michele threw his sister an 'are you serious' look. "Visiting Emil, checking in how he's doing," he explained, confused why Sara hadn't realised that herself. "You can tag along if you want? It'll show you care."

 

For a brief moment, it seemed that Sara was going to give in. But in the end, she gave her book a sad look and shook her head. "Can't, still have to study. I'll visit him later, okay?"

 

Nodding, Michele left the room, entering the cold hallway. He didn't understand his sister, at all. She gets the perfect opportunity to talk with Emil, interact with him and probably dote on him, as the foreign prince was bed-ridden for a few days. But, it was her decision. If she wanted to be an adult, she was free to do that. Michele wasn't responsible for her future, no matter how badly he wanted to see her happy. There were things he couldn't do for her, and that were the things she had to decide herself.

 

Slipping trough the chilly hallways, Michele managed to raid the kitchen, hiding a few wrapped cookies in his pockets. The 'no cookies till the evening' rules was stupid anyway, as Michele had master sneaking into the kitchen a long time ago when his parents refused to give him anything sweet because of the 'ballroom incident'.

 

The ballroom incident wasn’t even an actual incident. In the castle, they had two ballrooms, one on the ground floor, easy to attend and enormous, fit for parties. There was also a second ballroom, up on the highest level. Because it was on the most top level, its roof was made out of glass, giving a beautiful view of the sky. Emil had suggested to sneak out late into the night to practising underneath the starry sky. It had been beautiful, but they had been caught, and his parents were pissed for sneaking out after curfew. So, they had been punished in the only way a thirteen-year-old can be punished. No sweets.

 

Content with the stole treats, Michele easily found his way to the hospital wing. After an incident on the ice, Emil had managed to sprain his ankle, forcing the prince to be bedridden for a few days without any chance of an early release.

 

Knocking on the door three times, Michele waited for a response. When no nurse opened the door to glare at him, Michele pushed down the handle and slipped inside.

 

The room was poorly lit, as the curtains were drawn. Emil was propped against a headboard, moving around nervously while reading trough a book, or at least trying. Michele knew that Emil disliked sitting stil. All the pent-up energy had to go somewhere, which usually was burned during running or skating on the ice.

 

"How are you holding out?" Michele asked, trying not the let the conversation with Sara ruin his mood.

 

Emil's previously sober expression brighten up immediately. Without even marking the page, the prince threw the book on the nightstand. "Now better," he admitted, eyes alive with mirth. "I was so bored."

 

Snorting, not even surprised, Michele sat down on the bed, making sure he didn't sit on Emil himself. "That's a bummer," Michele said, handing Emil one of the wrapped cookies. "Though, just another day before you're free to go."

 

Nodding soberly, Emil started to munch on the food, leaving crumbs in his wake. Well, it was going to be fun cleaning that up. "How's your back? Still hurting?"

 

Shaking his head, Michele ignored the twinge of pain in his lower back. "I told you I would be okay. You weren't that heavy."

 

Naturally, Emil didn't believe him but kept quiet. By now, he could read Emil well enough to figure out what was on the other's mind. "Still, you just could've fetched help. You didn't have to carry me all the way to the castle on your back."

 

"I didn't want to leave you alone," Michele admitted, staring at his own treat instead of meeting Emil's gaze. "I mean, you fell pretty hard on the ice, so I was worried. Maybe you would do something stupid if I left, as you're good at that."

 

The last words resulted in Emil playfully punching him. This small gesture, however, fell into nothing the moment Michele dared to look up and meet Emil's gaze. Gratitude was strong, a smile so shy and small that Michele wondered if this was even Emil, who always smiled big and bright, never held back on his emotions.

 

"I swear, sometimes I wished the two of us were engaged," Michele was sure his heart had stopped to beat as Emil joke. "You don't like dancing, you don't mind spending time with me, and you aren't afraid to rob the kitchen for food. Sounds about a dream person to marry."

 

Michele's voice cracked under the pressure he felt. It was all meant in a good, friendly way. They were friends, it wasn't the first time he had heard someone telling their friend they should get married because they had so much in common. But for whatever reason Emil's words made his heart race and hands sweaty. "You know that we're both guys, right?"

 

Emil's face grew soberer. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled, reluctantly nibbling the freshly baked good. "But it doesn't matter- you know, whenever two are of the same gender. My mum's sister is married to a woman- not even a royalty for that matter. But she isn't abandoned by my family. Actually, she's my favourite aunt of them all," Emil seemed to constipate whenever to tell more or not. The moment his expression changed, Michele knew that Emil wasn't finished yet. "And, if our case, it wouldn't matter. Both of us have a younger sister, they could provide an heir if necessary, or even take over the throne. So, I don't care that you're a  guy, it wasn't a proposal anyway. I mean, I'll be marrying Sara anyway, so there is no reason to fret over that."

 

So guys liking guys and girls liking girls was a thing. Staring at Emil, Michele realised that maybe it wasn't weird how close he was to Emil, why he enjoyed spending so much time with his future brother-in-law. This was messed up in so many different ways.

 

"But I basically get the premium package," Emil added, not realising Michele's lack of mental presence. "Marrying  a sweet girl and being best friends with my brother-in-law."

 

Blinking slowly, Michele stared at Emil in confusion. "I'm your best friend?"

 

Emil hummed, finishing up his cookie. "Of course, there is no-one else I spend as much time with as you."

 

Michele swallowed nervously. "Well, you're my best friend too," he admitted, not even lying. The thing was that maybe, it was possible he liked Emil more than just a best friend.  

 

**Year VII [14] Summer**

* * *

 

He had arrived much earlier than planned in the stables. He would pay it off as making sure he was in time while the truth was that he was nervous. Michele had never been horseback riding before, and honestly, it terrified him. The animals were a lot bigger than him and probably could smell his fear. So, to gather some nerves, he had arrived early, hoping that it would help. While it certainly helped, he hadn't planned on company.

 

The last time he had bidden his parents goodbye on a diplomatic trip, which was about half-a-year ago, there had been an older man fixing up the horses. Now it seemed that his son had taken over the job. The son in questions was about Michele's height, about a one-sixty. He had reddish-brown hair, soft brown eyes and a nose covered in freckles. What did confuse Michele was that he had never seen the boy before. Michele had met most people of his age, which by now was fourteen, nearly fifteen. The guy could most definitely not be much older than he was. The fact he found the stable boy somewhat active, appearance wise, came as a small surprise. But the surprise didn’t last long. After the talk with Emil, he had pretty much figured out that he preferred men in a romantic relationship, as far as he was looking for romance.

 

"Hey, where is the old man?" Michele runs his mouth. Michele cringed slightly. He was raised politer, now he just sounded like some bratty teenager, which, in hindsight, he kind of was.

 

Blinking in surprise, the stable boy stopped preparing the horse Michele was supposed to be riding. "You mean my dad?" he asked, head cocked in confusion. He kind of reminded him of Emil. "The moment I turned eighteen he retired, which is, like, a couple of months ago, I think."

 

Michele didn't bother to hide his disappointment. So this guy was already eighteen, no wonder that he hadn't seen him before. On the other hand, the stable boy was just a servant, Michele had little to no contact with the servants' children.

 

"Oh," Michele mumbled. "You like your job?" he wasn't used to talking with servants.

 

The stable boy shrugged and returned to work, yet he still bothered to answer Michele's question. "It's alright, it get's the food on the table, plus the horses seem to like me," to demonstrate, the stable boy patted the animal's snout. In return, the horse made a noise that Michele would describe as content. "And you? Not many people hang around in the stables- nor have I ever see you before."

 

Michele stared at the stable boy in surprise. The guy hadn't realised who he was, probably because Michele hadn't acted overly snobby. The stable boy probably hadn't labelled him as a royal!

 

"Hunters' son," Michele answered, deciding that he wasn't going to tell the stable boy that he was the prince. Maybe he actually could get to know things others wouldn't tell him or would make fun of him because he was asking. Plus, it was nice to talk to someone who didn't take his lineage into account.

 

"Aha, so this is your horse?" the teen asked, patting the animal on the nose. "I have been told to prepare two horses, easy-going because they're first timers."

 

Smiling shyly, Michele nodded. "Yes, a friend and I are starting today with practising."

 

"Well, you're in luck. Lucky over here is a very gentle lady and Fortune over there, the grey one, is one of the nicest horses we have here," the stable boy gestured to a lone grey-coloured horse between all black-coloured horses.

 

Fortune? Lucky? What kind of names were that? He probably snorted.

 

"What? Don't like the names?" the stable boy asked, a certain hint of determination in his eyes. "I named them myself. They're perfectly good names for horses. Please, the names are cute."

 

Now the man really reminded Michele of Emil, who probably would do the same thing, giving the horses cute names instead of proper ones. "Don't you just name horses like humans?"

 

The stable boy stopped preparing Lucky and stepped towards Michele, eyes set in a challenge. "Oh, sorry, next time I'll call them human names, like John and Sarah," the stable boy planted his hands on his hips. "So, if you call a horse, you aren't sure whenever you're calling out to a human or an animal."

 

Okay, he regretted not mentioning he was the prince. Apparently, being the crown prince allowed him to get away with more rude behaviour than as an ordinary boy. "I'm sorry, I was just wondering," Michele apologised, actually fearing for his life. He took it back, this guy wasn't cute, it was all an illusion.

 

"Now, boy, listen," the stable boy pushed his hair back. "I know that you aren't a hunter's son- they start horseback-riding at a much younger age," Michele cursed his own stupidity. "So, I assume you're a noble kid. If you want to blend in, you might consider your manners. You might think all commoners are just some low-level folk, but we also have manners. Actually, we usually have more manners than most snotty royal brats that come here into the stables to 'ride' the biggest and most badass horse in the stable."

 

"I didn't come here to ride the biggest and most badass horse," Michele protested, glaring at the stable boy. "It's actually my first time, and I'm just nervous- I never even had _sat_ on a horse, even while another was steering."

 

This seemed to surprise the stable boy, as his expression softened. Scrap that, he was actually cute. Why were things like attraction so confusing? "That's new," the teen admitted. "Most of you lot come marching in, ready to basically head off to battle riding on the back of a horse with a beautiful girl clutching their middle while sitting behind them."

 

He blamed his nerves for blurted out probably the most stupid sentence in existence. "I don't like girls."

 

"Sure," the stable boy muttered, but his expression wasn't unkind. "That's what like half the boys of your age say- though, to be fair, I was saying the same thing a couple of years ago."

 

He hated not being taken seriously. He easily could get this guy fired, with ease! But, he was curious. He hadn't talked to many people who were older than him, so he was curious. "And now you already are engaged to a beautiful girl?" he questioned, expecting the stable boy to nod and smile fondly. He probably had hoped wrong about talking to him about his so-called 'romantic feelings' for his best friend, a guy.

 

"Nah, I still don't like girls romantically," the stable boy answered honestly. "But most people aren't as unfortunate as I and simply find a girl to settle down with so don't worry, you probably will get over your 'I don't like girls' phase."

 

Michele slowly shook his head, eyes big with surprise. He wasn't alone, there was someone else who wasn't normal. A guy who liked other guys, or at least, he assumed that. "I'm the same," he stuttered, face growing hot. "I mean- I never liked girls, and I think I've a crush on my best friend."

 

For a while, the stable boy purely looked shocked, probably unsure what to do with the information Michele had thrown his way. When the realisation dawned upon him, Michele was surprised to see him panic. "I can't help you with that," he squeaked. "I'm terrible at giving love advice or love overall. Actually, scrap that, I'm terrible with kids. The only reason that I can control most of those annoying brats is that I'm a decent actor and can hold my age over their heads."

 

This was the real stable boy. No barriers, no faked expressions. The personality seemed more fitting with his cute exterior, more than the annoyed, older brother kind of behaviour he previously had been displaying.

 

"But, isn't it wrong to like guys?" Michele asked quietly, staring at the stable boy with too much hope. He wanted to know.

 

"I don't know," the stable boy admitted, shoulders slumping. "But it isn't like we can change much, can we? Life is unfair, it's as easy as that."

 

Swallowing, Michele decided to tell the whole truth. This guy surely would not laugh at him, nor would abandon him. And, as he didn't exactly know who Michele was, he couldn't go ahead and gossip about what Michele just had told him.

 

"Do you have a best friend?" he asked quietly, watching the stable boy carefully.

 

The stable boy shook his head. "Not really- used to have, but we went separate ways long ago because his parents go the opportunity to have better work in another kingdom."

 

That was kind of sad. But it probably was more of an old scar than anything else. "I'm sorry for that," Michele apologised. "I didn't realise I was prying in personal stuff."

 

"That sounds more like a rich kid," the stable boy giggled, face flushing red. "But don't worry, I was like five when it happen. Nowadays it's more a name in my memory, as I can't even recall what he looked like. But go on, you were getting somewhere with that question, weren't you?"

 

"Right, okay," Michele took a deep breath. "Imagine yourself falling in love with your best friend, but he's engaged to your younger sister. It's kind off messed up, isn't?"

 

The stable boy's expression was surprisingly soothing. "Depends," he answered, eyebrows lightly pulled together. "Arranged or out of love?"

 

"Arranged."

 

"Then it isn't that messed up. It isn't uncommon to fall in love with your best friend. As soon as you spend a lot of time by someone's side, it's easy to fall in love, as they're always there, I guess," the stable boy grew even redder in his face, the blush dipping below the neckline of his shirt.

 

"For someone who isn't much involved in romance," Michele started. "You know a lot about romance."

 

The late teen glared at him, pouting. "My mum is a hopeless romantic- she loves to tell stories about her and dad's whirlwind romance, and as an only child, I don't have much choice but listen."

 

"Thanks," Michele murmured. "For listening, and trying to give advice. Most people don't take me too seriously. I've wanted to talk to someone about it, but I doubted it would help, as no-one would believe me."

 

The stable boy smiled softly, patting him on the head despite the fact they were the same height. "You're welcome- sorry for being rude earlier," an apologetic smile graced the teen's features. "But I really have to get the girls all geared up for you and your friend."

 

Letting the teen do his job, Michele plopped down on the ground, not caring about getting his pants dirty. He most definitely didn’t regret coming here early, if only was it to hear that he wasn’t the only one who was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have no self-control whatsoever. Though, admittedly, this chapter was already written beforehand (before college became hell). (Also, they might seem a bit young to have romantic feelings- but honestly, it isn't that farfetched compared to real-life.)
> 
> My apologies for the lack of cute and fluffy content- I wouldn't have been satisfied if there weren't some proper character and relationship development.
> 
> Oh- as I forgot last chapter, the ages [Year VII]  
> Sara, Mickey & Emil: 14  
> Guang Hong: 18  
> JJ: 20


	4. Year VIII & Year IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go pretty much downhill the moment Michele realises that he rather sees Emil as Sara's brother-in-law then his.

**Year VIII [15] Summer**

* * *

 

In hindsight, this might not have been his best idea. But seeing Sara stuck high up there in the tree, cradling her cat to the chest, Michele couldn't do anything else but climb up there himself and try to help her down. It soon turned out that Michele wasn't the greatest climber either and a foremost, lacked the muscles to properly lower Sara without risking the chance of her slipping from his grasp. It also didn't help that he had been shorter than Sara, something he cursed. Especially considering that Emil had started his second growth spurt, surpassing both him and Sara in height.

 

Emil's growth-spurt, however, came in clutch when the crown prince had found them sitting in the tree, probably coming to their rescue.

 

"Hey, what are you guys doing up there?" Emil shouted, shielding his eyes from the sun.

 

The two twins shared a relieved look, and Sara took the turn to answer. "We got stuck, well..." Michele coughed, which was obviously fake, and Sara grew flustered. "I got stuck, and Mickey can't lower me."

 

With ease, Emil managed to climb in the tree, having done it many times before. Soon, Emil was carefully balancing on the same branch as the one the siblings were sitting on. "I'll first lower Sara if that's okay?"

 

Michele huffed, crossing his arms. "I can get down myself so yes, first get Sara down," worry his thick in his voice, which in most cases should have been replaced by annoyance. While not liking being babied by Emil, it annoyed him, his worry for Sara obviously took reign of his emotions. He was even surprised that Sara had been crazy enough to climb the tree, she hadn't done that in years.

 

Emil just grinned, and Michele felt himself grow flustered. Hormones were the worst. Puberty was the worst. He shouldn't feel like this about his best friend, his _brother-in-law_. But, he couldn't do much about it and inevitably, within three years or so, the two would get married, and Michele could quietly bury his feelings, find someone who he could tolerate and just accept the fact that as a royal, you simply were stuck with someone from the opposite gender.

 

Thankfully, Sara's cat was very cooperative and clung to her leg as if his life depended on it. Emil started to slow task of lowering Sara down branch by branch. Eventually, she made the last jump, landing gracefully on the ground. The cat bolted off immediately, being the ungrateful creature it was.

Looking down, Michele made up his mind. He wasn’t going to climb down- it would be his death most likely.

 

"Hey, Emil!" Michele shouted, nervously looking down. "I might need some help getting down after all."

 

Usually, he wouldn't have too many issues climbing down. Though, often, he wouldn't wander that far up into the tree. Maybe he should have just stayed low and seek out Emil, as the foreign prince was just a much better tree-climber than he was or he ever would be.

 

Grinning, Emil gave him two thumbs-up and climbed back to the branch Michele was sitting. "I was already surprised you made it up this high," the prince said with too much cheer. "I know you aren't exactly fond of heights."

 

Michele hissed and looked down, hoping that Sara hadn't heard it. The princess seemed clueless, happily stretching her limbs that had grown sore due to the time of sitting on a branch. "She doesn't know that."

 

Emil looked at him with surprise, the familiar lopsided smile gracing his features. "Wait, how many things do I know and Sara doesn't?"

 

Growing flustered, Michele hid his face behind his hands. "Too many," he admitted.

 

It was Emil's turn to get flustered. "I can't believe you," he cooed, a bright grin on his face. "You trust me more than your sister."

 

"No, I trust you _not_ to tease me while Sara definitely would tease me," Michele pointed out, a small smile on his face. "Though could you help me down? I don't want to be stuck here for the rest of the day."

 

Thankfully, Emil collaborated and helped Michele down the first two branches without much of an issue. While not only growing in height, Emil also had started to grow broader, actually gaining some visible muscles in his upper body. The third branch, however, was a bit of an issue.

 

As feet touched wood, Michele let his weight rest on the branch. This wasn't a good idea. The branch groaned, and Sara let out a high-pitched warning noise. Maybe the branch could hold Michele, but it wouldn't be able to hold both him and Emil.

 

"Emil," Michele hissed. "The branch isn't going to hold out, it probably will snap."

 

Emil, who was draped over the branch above him, gave him a worried look. "Do I have to pull you back up?"

 

Shifting slightly, Michele heard the branch groan again. It definitely was going to hold out. "Yes please," he whispered, voice thick with nerves.

 

A soft smile graces Emil's features, and slowly, Michele was being lifted up back on the branch they had stood on a few minutes ago.

 

"You're okay up there!" Sara shouted, her voice thick with worry.

 

"Branch won't hold out!" Michele shouted back.

 

Now what? If they went to their parents, they would be furious. His and Sara's nursemaid wasn't an option, she would tell his parents. He best bet would've been the palace-guard JJ, who had helped them out of sticky situations before. The only issue was that he was guarding some diplomats who were visiting a neighbour kingdom. So, JJ wasn't an option. Who else could he turn to without them snitching it to their parents?

 

"Sara?" he called and waited for the princess to react. The moment she nodded, he continued. "Get the stable boy. He thinks we," he gestured to himself and Emil. "Are just some of the noble kids. He won't tell our parents."

 

His sister nodded and took off, shouting that she would be back soon.

 

"Why not JJ?" Emil asked, wiggling around to get himself into a more comfortable position. "He surely would help without telling your parents."

 

"JJ is travelling with some people- he won't be home for another few weeks," Michele hadn't realised how much he actually depended on the loud palace-guard. The guy was about six years older and quite the guard, easily climbing up in ranks. Yet, despite his status, he still bothered to save Michele and Emil's asses when they got in trouble.

 

Emil hummed softly. He leant against Michele, limbs bumping awkwardly due to the height difference. "Well, we'll be stuck here for a while, I guess. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

 

"Not really," Michele answered honestly, leaning into the touch. "Do _you_ want to talk about anything? He almost assumed so, as it was definitely a weird way to start a conversation.

 

"Want? Not really, but... it won't get any easier, so yes, there is something I want to talk about," an uncharacteristic frown took up Emil's usually bright expression.

 

Michele felt ill. Had Emil figured out that Michele liked him, romantically. Even if it was just a crush. Maybe he was disgusted and was going to tell him that they no longer could be friends. On the other hand, Emil had said his favourite aunt was in a relationship with another woman, which meant he surely wouldn't be disgusted by the fact Michele liked guys. But maybe things wouldn't have been complicated if Michele hadn't a crush on Emil. Yeah, that would make things a lot easier.

 

"I think of calling off the engagement."

 

What? Calling off the engagement...

 

"What!" Michele roared, staring at Emil with big eyes. Was Emil seriously considering that? Had he found someone else back home he had fallen in love with? What if it was a servant? That meant Emil would lose his title, which also suggested that Michele would never see Emil again, as royals and common folk rarely interacted. Not only would he lose his first crush, but he would also lose his best friend.

 

As Michele shrunk back slightly, Emil took on a more defensive position. "I know, it's stupid but I-" there it is. Now Emil would tell Michele that he had found someone else he had fallen in love with. "I can't marry my sister," he blurted out, face red.

 

"Your sister?" Michele asked sheepish, wondering how Emil and Sara could be related in any way possible.

 

"Yes, my sister," Emil confirmed. "Sara is like my sister to me. I wouldn't mind marrying someone who is pretty much a stranger, or my friend, or even my best friend," Michele mentally cheered, realising that Emil was implying that he didn't saw him as a brother. "But Sara is like a sister to me, marrying her feels so wrong in many ways."

 

For a brief moment, Michele thought nothing could ruin his day. Emil didn't want to marry Sara, which meant that Michele had a chance with Emil, as far as he had a chance. This moment of euphoric, however, was shattered within seconds. If Emil called off the marriage with Sara, someone else would try to ask Sara's hand in marriage. Probably someone who couldn't even remotely compete with Emil in kindness. Maybe Sara would marry some kind of douchebag, someone who didn't care about Sara but solely about the money and the name.

 

It was when Emil patted his tight gently when Michele recovered from the horrifying truth. "You don't have to pretend to be sad- I know that you don't want me to marry Sara. You've made that pretty clear from the beginning."

 

"I-" Michele stuttered, not sure what to say. Yes, in the beginning, he didn't want Emil to marry his sister. But as he got to know Emil, he started to mind it less. The only awkward things were his silly crush on his best friend. "In the beginning, yes, I didn't want you to marry Sara,” Michele admitted. “But honestly, right now, I couldn't image anybody else standing at her side. She likes you, not romantically, but she cares about you, and you treat her well. Next to that, I like you, a lot. You're my best friend, I trust you that you'll take care of her and-"

 

To his own horror, Michele starting to sob quietly. "What if she marries a jerk? I love her so much, and I don't want her to be unhappy, and you definitely could make her happy as far as arranged marriage go."

 

A handkerchief was wordlessly pressed in his hands, and gratefully, Michele used it to wipe away the tears. "Sorry," he mumbled, blowing his nose. "I have no right to meddle with your life."

 

"She's your sister, you've all the right and-" Emil sounded very venerable, and Michele felt guilty. "I'm sorry, for even thinking so selfishly, it's just..."

 

Shaking his head, Michele held a tight grip onto the handkerchief. "If the arranged marriage doesn't make you happy, and you have a chance to bail out, you should, I think."

 

"But, your sister," Emil stammered. "What if she-"

 

"That's none of your concern. Listen, you're my best friend, I don't want you to be unhappy in a loveless marriage with someone that's more of a sister to you than anything else. Remember, the two of you are supposed to conceive at least one child and well, you know how that happens," both pulled a disgusted face, mirroring each other almost perfectly.

 

"Ew, I don't want to sleep with your sister," Emil grumbled, sounding disgusted.

 

Even the idea of Emil and Sara sharing a bed made his stomach churn in an uncomfortable way. "I don't want you to sleep with Sara either," he mumbled, scrunching his nose in disgust.

 

"So, I don't have many options, do I?" Emil drew up his knees for a bit, somehow still keeping on having a proper balance on the branch. "Or marrying my sister or giving up everything we've build for those last eight years."

 

"Hey," Michele mumbled, gently placing his hands on Emil's tigh, fingers accidentally brushing. "Listen, we could try to stay in contact. We might at least get some kind of alliance between our countries- we could visit each other for diplomatic meetings. It doesn't have to be the end for us."

 

Emil let out a broken sob, and it was now Michele's turn to dig up his handkerchief. "There you go," he mumbled, pressing the fabric in his friend's hand. "You still have time to think about it. Maybe you should talk to Sara, she's your fiancé, after all."

 

"I know," Emil mumbled, trading in the conversation for quiet sobs and tears that run down his face.

 

Neither of them picked up the conversation till Sara had returned with the stable boy, who looked mildly confused and slightly panicked.

 

"How did you even get up in there?" he asked, eyes narrowed as he looked into the sun.

 

Michele shrugged. "Climbing, but the branch below us could hold me, maybe, but it can't hold Emil, so we aren't risking anything."

 

To his surprise, the stable boy reacted fast. He climbed up the tree with practiced ease. He only stood briefly on the feeble branch, which groaned under the weight but didn't snap. Michele was happy that the stable boy wasn't heavy.

 

Maybe five minutes later, both Emil and Michele had safely touched the ground. The stable boy was gathering his rope, muttering under his breath something along the lines of 'I don't get paid enough for this' and 'Did I cause this much issue as a child?'.

 

"Thank you," Sara thanked the late teen, a flirty look on her face. They didn't know many people that were much older than them- most of their so called 'peers' were their age, sometimes a bit younger, at times a bit older, but not the stable boy kind fo older.

 

"Not interested, little missy," the stable boy murmured. "But good luck- I have to go before they realise I'm gone."

 

The late teen jogged over to a horse Michele recognised as Lucky and hopped on her back with a scary amount of ease.

 

"I swear," Sara said grinning. "You make the weirdest friends. First JJ and now this guy, how do you even manage?"

 

Michele tried to let his anxious thoughts show too much. He shrugged, offering Sara a blank look. "I really don't know how I manage to do that."

 

Sara left them, mentioning that she was already late for her sewing classes and her teacher would most definitely kill her. Once again, Michele and Emil were left alone, the latter looking nervously.

 

"Mickey, I-"

 

"Let's go practice archery," Michele suggested. "The weather is pretty great, and we still have some time left before dinner."

 

Emil blinked at him in surprise. His sober expression quickly brightened, and he happily nodded in agreement. "You're right- the weather is good, plus it's a pretty good way to kill time."

 

Bumping arms and limbs, the two headed off to the practice field, sun blazing high up in the sky. Maybe Emil would actually call off the marriage, and while it sucked, maybe they could stay in contact in one way or another. While meant to be king in the future, Michele surely wouldn't mind dipping into diplomatic, especially if he could see Emil trough that way.

**Year IX [16] Summer**

* * *

 

You only realise how much someone is in your life the moment they leave your life. The news that Emil had called off the marriage had caused quite the shake-up for the palace folk. The kitchen staff no longer had to prepare an extra meal, nor had to get rid of the two teen boys who tried to steal the snacks from the countertops. Emil's usual room remained empty, yet maids came in on a nearly daily basis to clean up the dust and refresh the sheets, more out of habit than anything else.

 

The one who struggled the most with the lack of Emil's presence was Michele. Everyone had expected Sara to be the one most affected, as she was supposed to marry Emil, but Michele soon proved them wrong. Yes, Sara had been devastated, but she knew. The moment the news had hit them, Michele had seen it in his sister's reaction that she had known that Emil was planning on calling off their marriage. Michele was at least glad Emil had bothered to talk to Sara about it, as it was her future too.

 

Nevertheless, despite knowing it beforehand, he hadn't slept well in days, maybe weeks. It was weird. Usually, there were nine months in the year that Michele didn't see Emil, didn't spend any waking moment at the other's side. What difference should three extra months make? A lot, apparently.

 

Slipping out of his room, Michele sneak down the hallways of the castle. He knew he was supposed to be asleep, his nursemaid had scolded him many times for looking like a corpse on legs, which he honestly felt like. But sleep was for the one without a conscious and without guilt.

 

After finding Sara's room with practised ease, Michele knocked on the door in the hope his sister was awake. He expected she was. While not yet as insomniac as Michele, Sara clearly hadn't been sleeping well.  And, considering that it wasn't that late yet, she might still be awake, trying to bore herself to sleep by studying.

 

"Yes?" came Sara's voice and Michele carefully opened the door, making sure not to make too much noise.

 

Sara was sitting in her bed, a book in her lap and a candle burning merrily. By the looks of it, she had been trying to fall asleep for a while, as the candle was nearing its end.

 

"Can't sleep either?" Michele asked, already knowing the answer. The answer was no.

 

Muffling a yawn, Sara shook her head, eyes growing tearing. "It's stupid. I already saw it coming yet it still hurt."

 

"I know," Michele mumbled, closing the door and climbing on Sara's bed, sitting opposite of him. "I miss him too."

 

Tears were already spilling from her eyes by the time Michele dared to look at her. Sara was a strong person, much more mature than Michele was. But something like this, Emil suddenly disappearing from their lives wasn't something Sara, who still was sixteen and just a teen, could handle. At least not behind closed doors where she doesn't have to be strong.

 

"I still don't know why," she sobbed, voice nothing more than a pathetic whimper. "He never told me why, just that it didn't felt right marrying me, that he never could love me liked he was supposed to love me."

 

Feeling sorry for his sister, he gently placed his hand on hers. "He told me you're like a sister to him. Imagine marrying me in the future, having kids with me in the future. That can't sit right with someone, even if you and Emil aren't blood-related."

 

Despite still sobbing, Sara looked up, eyes big with surprise. "He told you that?" she asked, mouth pressed together in a thin line.

 

Michele nodded. "Yeah- though it shouldn't matter anymore. The engagement is off and Emil," choking on his own words, Michele struggled to not cry himself. "And Emil is gone without a proper goodbye. I knew this could happen, but I hadn't expected to hurt this much."

 

Okay, nevermind, he was crying.

 

"Mickey," it was Sara's turn to sound worried. "Are you okay? I knew you guys were close, it must be tough, probably even harder for you than for me."

 

Sniffing, Michele clutched his chest, fingers brushing over his aching heart. "It hurts so much," he sobbed, his bottom lip trembling. "I thought it would be easy, or at least easier than this."

 

Taking a few shaking breaths, Michele stubbornly wiped away a few tears, not that it mattered much, as soon they were replaced by new ones. "I'm a terrible person," he wheezed, ignoring Sara's alarmed looks and caring touches. "Can you believe it that for a brief moment, I was _happy_ to hear Emil tell me he wanted to call off the arrangement. For a short moment, I was happy, happiness caused by pure selfishness."

 

"Mickey, what do you mean?" Sara's voice was high-pitched, worry strengthening each word she spoke. "I know you weren't happy that I was engaged, but I thought you were over it as soon as you and Emil became friends."

 

"Don't you see it!" he was now crying hysterically, probably alarming a few people in the castle. "I was happy because if Emil didn't marry you, _I_ had a chance," Sara's shocked gasp send chills down his spine. "Sara, I fell in love with him. Fell in love with a guy, with my best friend, my brother-in-law. This is wrong for so many reasons, and yet, my heart still hurts each time I think about, thinking about us not spending time together."

 

Not even bothering to wipe away his tears, Michele buried his head into his arms. "I want him in my life," he whimpered. "Whenever it as best friend or lover, by now I don't even care anymore. If he married you, it meant I would see him a lot, and we could remain friends. My feelings would eventually fade, I would find a wife I could tolerate, and well, I would've been content, but with arrangement called of I-"

 

"Mickey, I'm so sorry," stopping mid-rant, Michele looked up, meeting Sara's gaze. His little sister was crying again, tears running down her face, eyes red and puffy and lips trembling. "I hadn't even seen it- not even seen that you liked Emil... if I worked better on the relationship Emil might not have called it off."

 

Shaking his head, Michele tried to put on a stern face. "Listen, Sara. My feelings are my problems. I just wanted you to know, it’s nice having someone to talk to that isn't the stable boy whose name I still don't know."

 

Sara let out a shaky laugh. "You talked with Guang Hong about this?"

 

Blinking stupidly, Michele stared at his sister with mild amazement. "Wait, how do you know his name?" he asked, perplexed.

 

"I asked, you dummy," she pointed out, smiling a little. "But I still can't believe you talked to him about that, though, I'm still surprised he hasn't figured out that you're the crown prince."

 

Shrugging, Michele smiled weakly. "I guess we're all a little dense."

 

For the first time in days, maybe weeks, Sara actually smiled. "You have no idea."

 

**Year VIII [15] Summer**

* * *

 

Sara wondered what Emil wanted. He rarely sought her out, especially without Mickey by his side. So, all she could assume was that this either involved their engagement or he had issues with Mickey. She hoped it wasn't the latter, as she never had seen her brother this happy with someone. Mickey wasn't a very social person and to see him call her future husband his best friend was heartwarming.

 

"I... I have to tell you something," Emil mumbled, looking uncharacteristically nervous. They were seated in Sara’s bedroom, Emil sitting down on the lone chair at her desk, facing her. "I'm thinking of calling the quits on our engagement."

 

It hurt. It really hurt to hear Emil speak those words. On the other hand, she wasn't even that surprised. It was a long-time coming. They weren't close, they had very few things in common, and there wasn't more between them than plain friendship, maybe a family relationship like cousins.

 

"I'm not even surprised," Sara admitted. "We weren't that very close, after all."

 

Emil's eyes grew big. "It's not because of that," he said, voice cracking slightly. "I wouldn't call an engagement off because we aren't very close. Many guys would be lucky to marry you, including me, but..."

 

There was the but. However, while it pained her dearly, she wanted to know why Emil wanted to call off the engagement. The most logical thing would be that he had fallen in love with someone else, but on the other hand, that wasn't Emil. As far as Sara knew him, Emil wouldn't throw the future of his kingdom away because he loved someone else than his supposed wife, it wasn't just Emil. Actually, that left he pretty much clueless. Emil didn't dislike her and probably wouldn't call something so important off just because of feelings alone.

 

"Well, for starters, it involves Mickey," Sara frowned, ready to give her brother her scolding. If Mickey had urged Emil to call off the engagement, he was going to be toast.

 

"Not like that!" Emil squeaked, probably noticing her glaring anger. "Mickey was as devastated as you when I told him about my plans, but-" there was a tense pause, Emil looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "Sara, I like Mickey, romantically. Maybe love him- I'm not sure about that yet but-"

 

The left of Emil's rambling was like a background noise for Sara. Emil liked her brother romantically. Her guess hadn't been off, but considering the person Emil like, his fiance’s motives were entirely different. For starters, Emil was in love with his brother-in-law, her _brother_. That was something else than a girl back home.

 

"I see," Sara whispered, voice high-pitched and breathy. "It's not about the fact you won't marry him because you're marrying me, it's because if you're marrying me, you'll see him a lot. Next to that, I'm not Mickey, but we're blood-related, we look quite a bit alike, I-"

 

She wasn't sure how to continue this. Thankfully, Emil picked up the pieces. "I want to treat you right, and I fear that I'll project my feelings for Mickey on you, but more in a sense that I'll start to think you're Mickey and not Sara. It would do more harm than good for any of our relationships. You'll start to loath Mickey because I spend more time with him than with you, Mickey would be mad at me that I don't treat you right and I'll forever regret not speaking up earlier and give us an opportunity at a better life- or at least not an unhappy one."

 

Emil had a point till some degree. It would be awkward to see her own husband spend more time with her brother than herself. Yes, she didn't love Emil, but he would be her husband, and well, she at least wanted a nice relationship with her husband. As a princess and second in line, she already had accepted her fate to be engaged to someone, but she at least wanted to like them.

 

"I understand, and I sadly have to agree, knowing myself and Mickey, that probably would be the outcome of the situation," for a brief moment, Sara wondered whenever she would ask the more logical question, a question that could change the situation. "You haven't told Mickey, right? About your feelings," Emil nodded soberly. "What if he returns them? Your feelings. The two of you could get married, take over one of the kingdoms and either your sister or I will get the other one. As both you sister and I can produce an heir, there will be no issues of having nobody next in line because you're both males."

 

"What are the chances Mickey likes me back? I'm his sister's fiancé, it's disgusting," Emil pointed out, hugging his knees to his chest.

 

It was, but on the other hand, Sara was technically not even engaged to Emil. They would be the moment Sara would turn eighteen, which was a couple of months after Emil.

 

"He's your best friend," Sara said slowly, the words feeling foreign. She had never expected that Mickey would ever find a best friend, especially not the guy Sara was supposed to marry. "He of all people should understand your feelings."

 

Letting out a whimpering noise, Emil curled up further into a ball. "That's the issue, he _is_ my best friend. I don't want to lose him over this. I rather remain friends with him than lose him forever."

 

“But you’ll lose him that way,” Sara pointed out, not being able to shake away the unsettling feeling. “What if you won’t be able to see us again? I’ll be sad, definitely, but Mickey will be heartbroken. You know,” a sad smile curled up her lips. “Mickey always had been terrible at making friends, seeing him having a best friend is astonishing.”

 

"I-" Emil looked like he was about to cry. Sara understood, understood the fear of losing the person you might care the most about in your whole life. “I know, but I rather rip off the band-aid now than wait and regret it.”

 

Sara nodded. "Understand. So, we're no longer are getting married?"

 

"I fear so," Emil answered, an awkward laughter was forcefully pushed out his throat. "I still have to talk with my parents, strike a deal. Maybe we could get some kind of diplomatic agreement out of this."

 

Sara felt herself smile a little, surprised by Emil's smart thinking. That they no longer would get married didn't mean that the kingdoms would never want to speak to each other. It sounded almost like an idea Mickey could think off. Her brother would make a great king, or at least a good diplomat if he decided that ruling wasn't for him and handed the throne to Sara.

 

"That was Mickey's idea, wasn't it?"

 

A more genuine laugh rolled of Emil's lips. "Yes. He would make a great king one day, as long as he can get over his insecurities."

 

"His insecurities should be the least of our worries," Sara pointed out, unable to grin a little despite the situation. "Finding a wife will be more difficult. The only female Mickey spends time with is his nursemaid and me, he isn't particularly... fond of women or people overall."

 

"It shouldn't be that hard, should it?" Emil questioned. "I mean, I fell for him so easily, surely someone else would."

 

Sara bit her lip, forcing herself not to answer. Mickey was a complicated person, and honestly, it probably would take years of her brother to warm up to someone and, sadly enough, as the crown prince, Mickey wouldn't have that time to fall in love with his future wife. But Emil hadn't to know that, there were already so many things on the prince's mind that Sara found it a miracle he hadn't started crying yet.

 

"I hope it isn't," Sara answered in all honesty, her heart aching painfully as she saw Emil's hopeful look. This summer could be the last one together with Emil, and then, he probably would disappear out of their lives. While it did hurt, an awful lot, Sara wondered whenever she would be the one suffering most. She feared that, to her own shame, Mickey would be the one who would suffer the most of the loss of Emil in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College has straight up murdered me. But hey, long live prewriting stuff (the sole reason I still can update- I haven't written anything in days ;A;)
> 
> This will pretty much be the last piece of angst this fic will happen- next chapter will be the 'Climax' and after that, you'll have the epilogue. I hope it's still enjoyable!


	5. Year X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the fog is very dense, and so are Emil and Michele

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shoutout to my precious daughter who had to listen to my whining about college for almost two weeks. You're absolutely a godsend (or just very patient)

**Year X [17] Summer**

* * *

 

Gearing up one of the last horses, Guang Hong jumped slightly when a familiar voice spoke. "So, how is Lily doing?"

 

"Also good morning, Leroy," Guang Hong mumbled, stifling a yawn. "She's doing fine, ready for the ride."

 

The guard nodded approvingly, petting the horse's snout. "I heard you're coming along too?" the way Leroy asked it was too casually, this probably had been a gossip subject amongst the guards, as it was quite the news.

 

It wasn't uncommon for Kings and Queens to bring along staff members on their travels, but usually, they had no use for a stable boy. The kingdom they would visit could take proper care of the horses. Actually, Guang Hong never had met a fellow stable boy, as each royal that visited Italien would trust him with their horses. He didn't understand why, he was just a commoner, but he wasn't going to question it. He liked his job.

 

"Yes, I still don't understand why, but as I like my job," making a vague hand gesture, Guang Hong tightened the saddlebags and patted Lily contently on the back. "I'm not going to protest. I just hope that Tschechien is a nice place."

 

Leroy mumbled something about winning some money, which honestly wasn't even a surprise to Guang Hong. The guards liked to bet money on literally _everything_. If he had to believe Leroy, there was even a bet going on who was going to marry first, the prince or princess. "It's a nice place- plus the crown prince is a nice lad. I saved him and our prince their asses a couple of times in the past. I still have my money on them getting together in the end, especially after the engagement was cancelled."

 

Digging trough his memory, it took Guang Hong a while to dig up the gossip. "Right, the prince of Tschechien was supposed to marry our princess, wasn't he?"

 

"Yeah, a real pity, I haven't seen him in like three years, last summer he wasn't here and the previous summer I was away for a diplomatic meeting playing bodyguard," Leroy mumbled, actually sounding regretful. So he was actually fond of the two princes.

 

Moving to the next horse, Leroy following him, Guang Hong mulled over Leroy's words. "Wait, saved their sorry asses?"

 

Leroy nodded, pulling a non-existing go-tee. "Yes, saving them out of trees, patching up injuries, catching Princess Sara's cat. Let me tell you, that creature is the devil itself."

 

Sara? Cat? Guang Hong was pretty sure that the girl that had come asking him for help a few years ago was named Sara _and_ had been babbling about a cat. Adding in the fact that she had a brother, the same teen who had bothered Guang Hong the year before that. Plus, there had been another guy in that tree Guang Hong had to save them from, someone who probably wasn't from around there, or at least not natively like the two other kids.

 

"Wait, her name is Sara?" Leroy nodded, expression pulled in mild confusion.

 

"How _can't_ you know that? Prince Michele will take over the throne in, like, a few years and you don't even are aware of their names?" Leroy sounded offended, but Guang Hong couldn't be bothered by the fact he had didn't know the royal family all that well.

 

Where those kids _actually_ the prince and princess? "JJ, please tell me that they don't have violet eyes, the boy brown and the girl black hair."

 

A guilty look crossed the guard's features, and Guang Hong knew enough. "I've been rude to crown prince- I'll lose my job the moment he gets the crown," running his fingers trough his hair, Guang Hong threw Leroy a helpless look. "How could I've known that he was the crown prince? He was just a confused kid and-"

 

Blinking, the rest of the puzzle pieces slotted together. He still remembers the kid, well, prince now, talking about his feelings for his best friend. And, most likely, that best friend would be... the crown prince of Tschechien.

 

"JJ, is that bet about the prince and princess their marriage still open?" he asked slowly. As he was going to lose his job anyway the moment the prince would get the crown, he as well could try to make as much money as possible.

 

The guard nodded slowly, a small grin forming on his lips. "Yes, have anything in mind?"

 

"Depends, do specific names earn more money?" as Leroy nodded, Guang Hong felt himself starting to mirror Leroy's grin. "Well, I'll put my money on the prince, with the crown prince of Tschechien."

 

Leroy's face lit up, a bright smile on his face. "Dude, where have you been all my life?" the guard questioned, ruffling Guang Hong's hair affectionately. "The rest of the people laugh at me for betting on them, still do even as the engagement has been called off. But I knew they were meant for each other the moment I saw them together."

 

Growing flustered, Guang Hong swatted the guard's hand away, throwing him what was supposed to be a nasty glare. "Hands off Leroy, I'm in it for the money, though I should've known that you also had put a bet on them."

 

"What could I say," Leroy threw an arm around Guang Hong's shoulder. "Great minds think alike. Now you're stuck with me for the remainder of the trip, you won't escape me, and as we always have to travel in two's..."

 

Guang Hong groaned, regretting accepting the offer to join the royal family. As he was going to lose his job anyway, he might as well have declined the offer. Now was he stuck with JJ rambling for four whole days. Joy.

 

**Year X [17] Summer**

* * *

 

Emil's grand eighteenth birthday was, well, grand. Both he and Sara had yet to turn eighteen and none of their friends, which was pretty much limited to Emil anyway, had turned eighteen, so it was all new. And it was quite the sight to be seen.

 

"Are you nervous?" Sara whispered, softly nudging Michele's side. They were hanging out at one of the tables, not mingling with the dancers on the dancefloor. There weren't many guys at the party and Michele probably scared away any girl who dared to approach them

 

"Of course I'm," Michele muttered, fixing his collar for what felt like the hundredth time. "I haven't seen him in almost two years, what if he changed a lot?"

 

Sara gave him a cryptic look. "Listen, the two of you used to be best friends for a reason. It probably clicks immediately, plus Emil invited us, while there was no reason to. The diplomatic meetings won't start till Emil found himself a wife, which, if I have to believe the rumours, is supposed to happen tonight."

 

Yes, the rumours. If they were true, and Michele somewhat feared that they _were_ true, Emil pretty much had traded in his freedom to call off the engagement. The Crown Prince of Tschechien had promised that he would find a suitable wife during his eighteenth birthday ball, hence why there were so many upper classes ladies there, all dolled up and ready to impress.

 

"I think I'm going out for some air," Michele murmured, suddenly feeling suffocating. He knew that it had nothing to do with the actual room.

 

For a while, he thought he had his feelings for Emil under control, pushing them to the back of his heart. That wasn't true, apparently. The moment Emil entered the conversation in one way or another, even if he was casually mentioned, Michele's mind and heart reacted to it. There was a painful longing that he simply couldn't explain.

 

"Okay," Sara said without showing any resistance, though, by know Michele assumed she knew how he felt. "But if he suddenly turns up I'm not going to stall time till you decide to return."

 

Nodding in confirmation, Michele manoeuvred his way trough the crowd. He knew a few faces from the castle back home, JJ, one of the guards, was animatedly chatting with a lovely woman who was most definitely royal. Actually, on closer inspection, Michele had a gut feeling that JJ was flirting with someone that was way above his level. Princess material above his level. Yet, the way she reacted to his jokes told Michele that they had met before. JJ wasn't funny, at all. But the princess seemed to love the attention she got from JJ.

 

Continuing to walk, his eyes sought out Guang Hong, the stable boy, but the short brunet was nowhere to be found. If there was anyone he wanted to talk with, it was him. Because Guang Hong wouldn't judge him for his feelings or would discourage him. He was a great listener and just an overall kind hearted person. But it seemed he was out of luck. He should have expected it- a commoner like Guang Hong probably wasn't very comfortable at this kind of parties- he himself wasn't comfortable and he was supposed to be _used_ to this sort of stuff.

 

Eventually, Michele stumbled on doors that lead to the garden. Emil had told them that while small, their garden was beautiful. The moment Michele stepped outside, he had to agree with his friend. The garden was indeed beautiful.

 

Lights floated like yellow dots in the endless debts of space, everywhere was greenery, benches scattered across the many seating areas, yet it wasn't cluttered. They weren't kidding when they said Sir Iglesia might be the best garden-architect in their world.

 

Wandering into the garden, Michele came to a halt at a sturdy looking tree. He was suited up, wearing his best clothes and shoes. His parents would kill him if he ruined his clothes yet- nothing felt more right than climb into that tree. Later on, he would blame it on the alcohol that he hadn't consumed, but for now, he refused to let his night be completely ruined by the fact he was dressed up.

 

Giving the tree a once-over, Michele latched himself on the first branch and hauled himself up. His shoes didn't have to best grip he realised, so sitting down on the first branch, he kicked them off, throwing them down to the ground. The non-existing alcohol in his system. Yes, that's why.

 

Climbing up another two branches, Michele decided that this height would suffice. Out of direct sight, nobody that just looked outside could see him, and if somebody saw him, they probably would think he was just some crazy commoners kid or something. They had to come close to recognise him.

 

Kicking his legs like a little kid, Michele watched the bodies in the ballroom spin around, the cheery music could be faintly heard. Maybe he should just stay outside the rest of the night, the only one who would miss him would be Sara, who surely would find some way to entertain herself.

 

His peace, however, was soon broken by some guy sneaky outside. If he remains sitting still, the newcomer surely won't notice him. The garden was well lit around the seating areas, but not around the trees, as the architect clearly didn't care about them. The guy probably would walk straight pass him without noticing.

 

To his surprise, the guy headed into his direction, occasionally looking back, probably checking if he was being followed. Maybe some rich kid trying to flee their strict parents or an unfortunate brother who was dragged along with their sister like Michele. Both guesses, however, were proved wrong as soon as the guy stepped into the light.

 

There was no mistaken that this guy was Emil, despite him looking entirely different from what Michele remembered. His friend had grown a lot. He surely was now at least a head taller then Michele, who had yet to hit a growth spurt. He also rocked a small beard, reminding him of the beard Emil's father had. To his delight, Emil was no longer the skinny, lanky guy he knew, but had gotten broader, more of a chest and muscles more defined. A grown up Emil did weird things to his heart.

 

Yet, despite Emil being there, Michele didn't felt the need to call him out. They hadn't seen each other in almost two years, neither of them bothering to contact each other. The scar was still fresh, and honestly, Michele wasn't in the mood to rip it open again. He wanted to get over Emil as soon as possible, which was easier if he didn't see Emil, if they didn't talk. Because, he knew, the moment they talked, he would fall in love with Emil all over again.

 

Holding his breath, trying not to move, Michele watched as Emil wandered closer to the tree. He was close to the tree, basking in the light, giving Michele a better view of Emil's face. He looked tired. Exhausted, worn, ready for the night to be over. The expression made Michele's heart clench, but he wasn't going to give in, not now.

 

This, however, wasn't needed.

 

"Hey, if you want to hide up there, you might wouldn't leave your shoes behind," Emil called out, picking up one of Michele's shoes and waving it around. He sounded exactly the same, the same chipperness in his voice.

 

Biting his lip, Michele tried to remain quiet, waiting for Emil to say more. Thankfully, his friend did.

 

"I'm surprised though," Emil continued, and Michele caught his friend's trademark lopsided smile. "I thought I was the only one who climbs up trees to hide from responsibilities."

 

Biting his lip no longer seemed to work. Before he could hold himself back, Michele started to chuckle. Due to the quietness of the night, it was loud, loud enough for Emil to hear it. "Well," he said, knowing that he no longer could hide. "I had to learn that habit from _someone_."

 

Emil's face grew blank, an expression of pure and utter surprise gracing his handsome features. "Mickey?" he asked quietly, fear surprisingly strong in his voice.

 

"The one and only," Michele answered, his heart pounding wildly. He had headed outside to take in some fresh air and avoid meeting Emil for a while longer. So this was definitely not on his agenda, at all.

 

Michele was convinced that Emil has teared up, a genuinly happy smile on his face. "Wait a second," the prince hurried, kicking off his shoes just like Michele had done. "I'm joining you up there."

 

Swallowing nervously, Michele watched Emil climbing up the tree. It wasn't with the same grace as he had done as a kid, his growth-spurt probably being the cause of his gangly limbs and overall clumsiness. Nevertheless, Emil made it up there, hauling himself on the spot next Michele.

 

"You, haven't changed much," Emil whispered, eyes focussed on the castle instead of Michele. "I remember you being taller."

 

Snorting, Michele shook his head in disappointment. "I remember you being shorter. Though I'm not surprised you have grown this much, your mum always has been tall."

 

Emil hummed and nodded. 'True," he admitted. "But you haven't outgrown Sara yet, have you?"

 

"No, we're about the same height now. But if I'm lucky, I'll start to grow soon," he knew that all they were doing was delaying their actual conversation, but Michele answered. Because he missed this, talking with Emil, hearing his chipper voice, seeing his smile, even if it was just a fragment of what Michele was used to.

 

"I missed you," Emil confessed, gaze now focussed on Michele. "Every day, I miss you. The summer was the worse, how many times I wanted to sneak out, grab and a horse and head to Italien-" Emil's voice cracked, and the prince buried his face in his hands.

 

He didn't know what to do. Those words made him incredibly happy, happier than it should make him feel. It made him happy to hear Emil miss him, but it wasn't enough. His friend should've grabbed the horse and head to Italien, to see him, to see Sara.

 

"Why didn't you?" Michele asked quietly, staring down at his lap. He couldn't muster the courage to look Emil in the eyes.

 

Emil sniffed, and Michele almost could image the few stray tears. "Because I simply couldn't do it," Emil mumbled, voice muffled by his hands. "I- let me explain okay?"

 

Humming softly, Michele waited for Emil to explain, explain why he hadn't contacted Michele for about two whole years.

 

"You might already hear the rumours surrounding this ball. It isn't just about celebrating my eighteenth birthday," it pained Michele hearing Emil saying this, especially as he already had an idea it was heading to. "I promised my parents I would find candidates, candidates to ask their hand in marriage."

 

He already feared so. Michele wasn't exactly surprised. Back inside, a few brave girls had walked up to him, asking him questions about Emil because they _knew_ Michele and Emil used to be close. He had refused to answer them all, but it had made his suspicions grow stronger, the same suspicion that just got confirmed true.

 

"I had a gist," Michele admitted quietly. "A few possible candidates already asked me about your likes and dislikes. The few stubborn ones now believe your favourite colour is yellow and you don't like sweet stuff."

 

Looking up, he saw Emil staring at him like a fish out of water. "But yellow isn't my favourite colour," he protested. "You _lied_ to them."

 

Rolling his eyes, Michele gave Emil a pointed look. "I know it's violet for whatever stupid reason, blue is better anyway," taking a deep breath, Michele tilted his head a little, meeting Emil's gaze. Yes, blue was definitely better. "But why should I tell them the truth? If they don't even bother to get to know you, why would they deserve to be your wife?"

 

Emil seemed to be taken aback by his response, blinking rapidly while frowning. "You got a point there," he admitted, a fond smile on his face.

 

"Right?" Michele basically asked, throwing his hands up in the air. "What's the point of marrying someone if you don't even bother to get to know them?"

 

"There's none."

 

Michele froze mid-motion, slowly meeting up with Emil's gaze again. "What?"

 

Emil was nervous. Michele still could read is friend well enough to notice the nervous twitch in his limbs.

 

"I agree with you," Emil repeated, softly bumping his arm against Michele's. Their height difference was ridiculous. "That it's stupid not to get to know the one you want to marry. Hence why I don't care about this ball, at all, I-"

 

He knew the continuation. Emil already had found someone he liked, someone who had bothered to get to know him. Well, at least one good thing would come out of it. His friend probably would be happy.

 

"I already found someone I love," Emil whispered, wrapping his arms around his knees, as far as the tree allowed that. "They know me better than I do, know my flaws, know my strengths, know my likes and dislikes. Not only that, they ground me, make me realised that life isn't entirely about having fun, yet they're crazy enough to occasionally join in on the fun themselves. It's a perfect balance, you know, that's why it was so scary to fall for them. Because it seems almost too good to be true."

 

Despite his heart aching painfully, eyes rapidly growing wet, Michele managed to keep his voice controlled. He wasn't going to cry, not yet. At least Emil was happy, and maybe, once Emil found someone, it could be easier for Michele to overcome his feelings. Maybe they could go back to being best friends, something Michele wanted so much more than the feeling of a love-sick heart and a hole in his chest.

 

"Why don't you confess to them?" Michele asked quietly. "You're a crown prince, they probably aren't going to reject you."

 

"Well," Emil's voice wasn't as happy, as lovestruck as Michele had expected it to be. Certainly, the news that was going to follow wasn't good. "That's the issue, they don't care about status, they're the heir to the throne themselves, I can't pull that card."

 

Heir to the throne. There weren't that many princes and princesses their age in the world. You had Princess Isabella, who was the first in line to the throne, Prince Seung-gil, who was a bit older and throwing the finger at every possible suitor. After that, there weren't many heirs. Yes, you had Princess Mila, but rumours were going around that she was planning on giving up the throne to her cousin, who was already happily married, expecting a child and much better fit for the life of a king than herself.

 

"Princess Isabella?" Michele suggested, seeing as that was the most likely thing. Seung-gil was a real pain, and Mila had announced to the world she was only interested in women, scraping her off the list.

 

"No," Emil mumbled. "Are you that dense?"

 

Staring at his friend with confusion, Michele was startled when Emil started to laugh. It wasn't a merry laugh and honestly, it confused him more than he liked. "Michele, you're a _crown_ prince. You're first in line!"

 

The force behind Emil's words hit right home. "Are you kidding me?" he asked almost hysterical, eyes bulding. "You're saying you're want to marry _me_ of all people?"

 

Looking hurt, Emil pressed his lips tightly together. "Yes, from the summer we had to started horseback riding classes. Though I had a gist around the winter you carried me the castle after I had injured my ankle. But I knew that I just could no longer marry Sara because I wanted to marry you."

 

Feeling his head spinning, Michele struggled to fathom anything. Emil loved him, wanted to marry him. Was this some kind of practical jokes? No-one joked about this, especially Emil. But how was he going to response? By now Emil was thinking that Michele was making fun of him and honestly, Michele couldn't blame him.

 

"You dumbass!" he yelled, punching Emil's tight not so gently. "I _am_ the dense one? I've been in love with you for as long, if not longer!" he shouted back, watching as Emil's expression did a one-eighty. "I love you so much it hurts- the summer had been terrible, I missed you so much, and the feelings just didn't go away," letting out a sob, Michele buried his face into his hands.

 

"I thought I could get over it," he whispered. "But I just couldn't. My heart longs for you every day, every single day and here you're saying we could've been a thing years ago?"

 

"Well, not that long, I was, like, fifteen, no, sixteen when I realised it," Emil mumbled, not responding in the way Michele had expected it. On the other hand, this was Emil.         

 

"Fourteen," Michele mumbled. "From the age fourteen, I knew that I liked you in a romantic way, or at least I had a gist that they weren't normal friendship feelings. Though, I came to accept them between the ballroom summer and our last winter together."

 

A much-needed silence fell between them. They both needed time to process everything, to figure out their thoughts.

 

Michele couldn't believe his luck. Emil returned his feelings, which was a small miracle itself as he was sure that he wasn't very likeable. Michele knew and he was overjoyed with Emil returning his feelings, but there was still the thing called marriage- and getting kids. While Sara had pointed out that both she and Emil's little sister could provide an heir if necessary, Michele still doubted Emil's parents would let his son being whisked away by the other Crispino siblings.

 

"But, how are we even going to do this?" Michele asked quietly, throwing Emil a hopeful look. "Whose kingdom are we going to take over? What about an heir? And, foremost, are your parents even going to accept this? You, marrying a man, marrying the brother of your ex-fiancée?"

 

Michele's frightened look was returned with a warm smile. "It isn't like I never thought about it," Emil pointed out. "I spoke to my aunts about this, and they suggested, in worse case scenario, we should give up the throne and go work as advisors. You already have a knack for those things, and I'm pretty sure I'm better at social events than you're, so we’ll somewhat balance each other out."

 

Giving up the throne? For the moment he had been born, Michele was meant to sit on that throne, rule over the country. But was that something he wanted? Yes and no. He didn't mind, he was never appalled by the idea of becoming king, but it never called him. While Sara would make an excellent queen at the ripe age of eighteen, which was just a few months away, Michele wouldn't make a good king yet. He had spent way too much of his childhood playing around with Emil, ignoring his so-called royal duties.

 

"I- I don't think I would mind," he answered truthfully. "Giving up the throne for you- after you proved yourself."

 

Emil blinked sheepishly, seeming lost for words. "What do you mean?"

 

Grinning, Michele bumped his arm against Emil's. "For starters, try to court me," he said cheekily. "Then, if it actually works out, you might actually kneel down and propose to me. During summers you're always free to come- scrap that, you're always free to come. Everyone there loves you."

 

"How did I manage to do that?" Emil questioned. "Getting everyone to love me?"

 

Michele snorted, unable to hide his disbelief. "You got me, someone with a stick up his ass, to fall in love with you. The rest is overall much kinder."

 

He was slightly hurt by the fact that Emil didn't argue that Michele, in fact, had not a stick up his ass. On the other hand, he could image Emil's mind being somewhere else entirely.

 

"So, when can I start? The courting?" 

 

"What about now? I won't hold you back."

 

Humming, Emil nudged his side and started to shift around. "So, what do you think about a dance? I'm still terrible at dancing, but it's a start."

 

Rapidly growing flustered, Michele ducked his gaze to his lap, hoping that Emil wouldn't pick up on it. "I wouldn't mind. Here or inside?"

 

Emil scratched his chin out of habit. "I think here will do, I mean, here nobody has to see how terrible we're at dancing."

 

Agreeing with Emil, Michele followed Emil and started to climb down the tree. Once Michele's feet hit the ground, he awkwardly collected his shoes. Emil did the same thing, but he at least didn't seem to be ashamed by it, at all.

 

"I was thinking," Emil mentioned suddenly. "What about dancing without shoes?"

 

Michele stared at his friend with what probably was sheer stupidly. Why dancing without shoes? Yes, they weren't exactly comfortable, but they didn't have to wear heels like the ladies. "Why?"

 

Emil grinned brightly, dropping his shoes carelessly back on the ground. "Because if I step on your feet, it won't hurt that bad, well," a sheepish look crossed Emil's features. "At least, I assume it will hurt less."

 

No matter how silly it sounded, Emil had a point. It surely would hurt more if Emil stepped on his toes while wearing shoes than without. Plus, there would be nobody to judge them.

 

"While it's an utterly stupid idea," Emil's smile fell a little. "I think it's worth trying."

 

While Emil's face lit up, Michele carefully placed his shoes by the tree, making sure they wouldn't be some kind of tripping hazard. Pondering briefly, realising that he probably would melt out of his coat due to the heat, he also unbuttoned his coat and folded it neatly, placing it on his shoes. His tie and other absolutely infuriating items followed and soon, Michele was just standing in his shirt, pants and socks.

 

Returning back to Emil, he saw that his friend had done pretty much done the same. Only Emil wore a long sleeved shirt, which was somewhat of a pity. Michele was convinced that Emil's muscles had grown more defined during his growth spurt and he was somehow dying to see them.

 

"Your shirt is the same colour as your eyes," Emil pointed out, a shy smile on his face.

 

Scrunching up his face in confusion, Michele wasn't sure how to response. How did your response to that? Thank you? "Wait-" he mumbled, a sudden realisation hitting him. "How do you know that it's the same colour of my eyes."

 

On an afterthought, it all made sense, a lot. Blue was after all his favourite colour for one reason and one reason only. Emil's eyes. The man eyes, while not sapphire blue, were always bright with life and the will to live. It easily had become Michele's favourite feature of Emil, out of many. So, considering this, he shouldn't have been surprised by Emil's answer.

 

"Because I love your eyes," Emil admitted bluntly, not even flinching at the idea of sounding so sappy. "They're the prettiest eyes I've ever seen- I mean, it's pretty obvious. Why else would my favourite colour be violet?"

 

Groaning, Michele buried his face in his hands. Of course, Emil would pick his favourite colour based on Michele's eyes. The sad thing though was that he had done exactly the same. So they were more alike than he previously had though.

 

Noticing that they had missed their opportunity to dance- a feminine voice already started another tear-jerking love-ballet- Michele decided to keep the conversation going for a bit longer, getting to know Emil better, letting Emil know him better. Removing his hands from his face, Michele looked up, meeting Emil's gaze. "One question, the next song has yet to start, what's my favourite colour?"

 

Emil clearly hadn't seen this one coming, though Michele could hardly blame him.

 

"Was it blue?" Emil asked, cocking his head slightly. "Because of the lake, right?"

 

Grinning, Michele shook his head. "No, at first it was, but now I have grown to love a different shade of blue, one that's closer to my heart."

 

"My eyes?"

 

"Yes."

 

He had seen Emil flustered before, but not like this. Admittedly, Michele was terrible in flirting, so that was also an issue, but usually, Emil didn't get easily embarrassed by things. But it seems that this had done the trick.

 

"Oh God," Emil whispered, face growing rapidly red. "You can't do this to me- you're too adorable," Emil was cooing. His friend was cooing.

 

"Emil!" Michele screeched, punching his friend's arm not too gently. "That I'm shorter than you doesn't mean I'm _cute_. I'm only a few months younger than you."

 

Emil laughed, and to his distaste, his friend didn't reply. That was downright rude. He wasn't cute, never had been. Sara and Emil had been the cute ones. Michele always had been too grumpy to be considered cute.

 

Noticing that the song was ending, Michele stepped forward, taking one of Emil's hands on his own. "Do you still know how to lead," he whispered, a small grin on his face. He was way up too close to Emil, and he knew. He also knew that Emil couldn't handle it.

 

Stuttering, Emil's flush travelled down his neck, dipping below his long-sleeved shirt. "I think I do," he croaked nervously.

 

Remembering his ballroom classes, Michele gently laid his hand on Emil's upper arm, feeling the muscles below the fabric. What he would've been willing to do to see Emil wearing a normal shirt.

 

"My lower back, remember?" Michele pointed out when Emil didn't move, at all.

 

After nodding hurriedly, Emil placed his hand on Michele's lower back. Back when they were kids, it had been kind of awkward, but now it felt right. Plus, he doubted that Emil would _dare_ to dip below that, Emil was a man of consent.

 

"Okay, once the next song starts, you'll have to start," Michele urged, noticing that the song was nearing its end.

 

While still nervous, Emil looked more determined than before, eyebrows slightly dipped in concentration. The faint music stopped for a brief moment, and a new tune followed.

 

Michele almost stumbled when Emil pulled him closer, taking the first few steps, trying to fit the beat. It thankfully was a slow song, which made it easier to follow. If there had been anything more upbeat, they probably would've been doomed.

 

They were terrible at dancing, still. It was absolutely ridiculous. After one song, which was over before Michele had even realised it, his feet were sore and bruised. But he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time.

 

“I suggest a break,” Michele panted, struggling to breathe properly. Dancing was much more draining that he previously expected. “I feel like dying.”

 

To his relief, Emil agreed and they snuck of to a bench, a poorly lit bench for the matter. Neither of them wanted a partygoer stumble upon them. They already had a lot of explaining to do towards both Emil and his parents, the last thing he wanted to explain to the girls that he had stolen their chance of becoming queen.

 

When they sat down, Michele was surprised with the distance between them. In the past they had sat thigh-to-thigh, no caring about personal space. But this was new territory for both of them. “Say, Michele,” Emil started, causing Michele’s breath to hitch. Emil never called him Michele, it had been Mickey from day one.

 

“Yes,” Michele whispered back, fingers carefully reaching out to touch Emil’s hand.

 

“I just realised that I haven’t properly confessed to you,” Emil pointed out, grinning broadly.

 

If Emil was going to say something meaningful each time he used Michele’s actual name, he might develop some kind of gross kink for it. Maybe he could never hear his name again without associating it with sappy feelings.

 

“God, you’re killing me,” he moaned, burying his face in his hands. “But knock yourself out- can’t make me feel more mushy than I already feel.”

 

He was so wrong. “While, apparently not loving you as long as you love me, I love you, an awful lot. It’s crazy, as I never expected to get along with you, at all, as you clearly seemed to hate me. But I guess guys can bond over archery,” Emil chuckled softly. “It was the easiest thing, falling for you. It was the whole reason that I called the wedding off, as I couldn’t bear the idea of marrying your _sister_ instead of you.”

 

Wait, didn’t Emil want to call of the wedding because Sara was like his sister? But before Michele could voice his concerns, Emil continued. “But that was clearly a terrible idea, as everyone was heartbroken. I just,” Emil pushed his hair out of his face. “I should’ve confessed, said the honest truth and maybe, things would have been better than this.”

 

Emil gestured to the castle, specifically to the ballroom. “My parents still expect me to at least dance with someone- someone that isn’t Sara that matter.”

 

Publicly, probably. So, Emil still had to find a girl to dance with, maybe leading his parents on that he was interested in her. Maybe he would actually find her interesting and forget all about Michele.

 

“I won’t mind,” Michele answered without hesitation. “I mean, if we want this to work, we must come public at some point, why not tonight when everyone important is there?”

 

Emil started at him with an expression on his that Michele couldn’t decipher. “You would make a good king- much better than I ever could,” a hint of doubt crossed Emil’s features. “Are you sure you want me at your side? I probably will hold you back.”

 

Without any hesitation, Michele turned to Emil and grabbed his hand, holding it between his own hands. “I would could to hell and back for you,” he said without hesitation. “Plus, why should I care. Do you think a girl I don’t love would make a better ruler than you? You know that ruling together isn’t just about being two, individual rulers, it’s about working together- and the past shows how well we work together.”

 

It was amazing to see Emil flustered. It made him feel he wasn’t the only one new, inexperienced and grossly in love. They were both experiencing this new relationship together, though it seemed that he was handling his embarrassment better than Emil.

 

“Can’t I just drop down on one knee and marry you already?” Michele knew that Emil was kidding, but it made him blush nonetheless. What did he say? Was he really handling his emotions better than Emil?

 

"Courting first," Michele pointed out. "But, should we just go inside?” Michele suggested, letting his fingers slip between Emil’s. “The earlier we get the dance out of the way, the earlier I can head to bed off and sleep of the humiliation of dancing in public.”

 

Emil squeezed his hand gently, cheeks burning a soft red colour. “We should, though, won’t you mind following, being a guy and all?”

 

Michele chuckled. “If things go haywire, I could blame you, you’re the one supposed to be sweeping me off my feet with your mad dancing skills. All I have to do is try looking pretty and following.”

 

“You don’t have to try,” there was a shy smile on Emil’s face. “You already look pretty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I haven't died of college- otherwise, this chapter wouldn't have been posted. The ending is a bit... abrupt, but I didn't want to keep on dragging this chapter out. (I mean, this chapter and the previous one were the reason why this hadn't turned into a one/two shot... I have no self-control apparently.)
> 
> The next chapter is the epilogue- though I'm not sure when that one will be up. (Probably this week or next week.) Thanks for sticking for me and a special thanks for those who commented! The comments were the brighter moments in my last two weeks of college...
> 
>  **Ages (as of the end of the chapter)**  
>  17 years old: Michele & Sara  
> 18 years old: Emil  
> 22 years old: Guang Hong  
> 24 years old: JJ


	6. Year XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss Kiss, _oh_ , that was my first Kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do people survive +30 degree weather? I'm melting over here ;A;

**Year XI [18] Spring**

* * *

 

 

“Thanks man. Are you sure this won’t cause you any trouble?” Emil hardly could suppress his concerned tone. He wasn’t fully sure about the rules in Italien- but he knew that back home, it wasn’t very appreciated if the guards let people in without informing, well, anyone.

 

JJ laughed without much worry, clapping Emil on the back in a reassuring manner. “Emil- it’s a small miracle I haven’t been fired yet,” the guard explained joyfully. “I mean, I have helped you and Prince Michele out so many times I’m surprised no-one has noticed it.”

 

Though Emil wasn’t exactly reassured, he decided that JJ probably knew what he was doing- the guard was at least five years older than them, so he should at least be more experienced in life than either Emil or Mickey. “Well, okay- I’ll trust you on this- but if you get into trouble...”

 

“I’ll ask you or Prince Michele for help,” JJ rolled his eyes, waving away Emil’s offer. “Just go make your stupid boyfriend happy- he has been holed up in his room for weeks, trying to put the finishing touch on the alliance agreement you guys have been working on,” the guard scrunched up his nose. “It’s getting unhealthy how much time he spends on it- plus it must be dull work.”

 

The alliance contract had been an idea from Mickey. Despite Emil’s and Mickey’s relationship, the two countries both had trouble on finding common ground. This was foremost surrounded the fact that initially, Emil would take the throne back home with Sara. But as Mickey was also the heir to the throne, neither countries were willing to give up their crown prince. So, both Emil and Mickey had decided to step down, giving their younger sisters the opportunity, and instead focus on doing political work, which included creating an alliance between the two countries without marriage.

 

"You know Mickey loves it," Emil mumbled fondly, remembering his boyfriend's excited face when the contract got through Emil's parents, who commented on Mickey's knack for politics and apparently, reading people, which kind of went hand-in-hand. "He never had something he excels at. Sara would always make a better ruler, as she's more of people's person. The same was with me- the people love me for whatever reason. But Mickey never has been a people person, at least not a _social_ people person."

 

This caused JJ to snigger. "Oh yeah, _that_ ," the guard recalled, a joyful tone in his voice. "It was wonderful. Prince Michele made one of Italien's royal advisors cry after he roasted them for thinking that Princess Sara wasn't capable of ruling the country because she was a _woman_."

 

Emil wiped away a fake tear of amusement. "It was wonderful- I couldn't look Mickey in the eyes for the rest of the meeting without-" not finishing his sentence, Emil was sure his face had caught fire. Too personal- way too personal.

 

As expected, JJ looked slightly uncomfortable, but also smug. "Ah, my boys are growing up," the guard cooed. "Well, if you ever need the Birds and the Bees talk," JJ winked before he left, waving one last time before he rounded a corner, disappearing out of sight.

 

That went great.

 

Forcing JJ offering both Mickey and him _the talk_ out of his mind, Emil headed in the opposite direction of JJ. Thankfully, when they had arranged Emil's surprise visit, neither of them had been stupid enough to directly drop of Emil at Mickey's room- as there was a possibility that the crown prince could have heard them talking through the walls. It didn't help that both Emil and JJ were, well... loud.

 

Mickey's room was easy to find. The door wasn't distinctive from the rest- they all looked the same- but Emil had been there so many times. Back as kids, hiding from Sara and all their duties, because it was a boys only room- and Sara wasn't a boy, and neither was Mickey's nursemaid. Or feasting on their stolen food from the kitchen- they even went as far as using Mickey's bedroom as a ballroom, at some point, as they were banned from entering the ballrooms after dinner. Though, nowadays it was a place of privacy and some much-needed cuddling because, apparently, cuddling was one of the nicest things to do with your significant other, _especially_ in the winter.

 

Hoping that his excitement didn't give him away, Emil knocked on the door, waiting for Mickey to answer. He hoped that his boyfriend was in a good mood.

 

"I told you I'm busy!" Mickey yelled back, sounding grumpy. Mickey was most definitely not in a good mood. Well, on the bright side, Emil could improve it, hopefully.

 

"It's important," Emil answered, trying to work with a thick accent, making his voice almost unrecognisable. He was so glad he was forced to watch stupid plays with his parents- otherwise, he would never have picked up that accent.

 

There was the scraping of wood against wood- a chair probably- followed by soft footsteps and a lot of muttering that sounded like curse words in Mickey's mother tongue.

 

The door was slowly opened, and Mickey glared straight at him. While Emil hadn't changed much from when they had rekindled their love last summer, Mickey had. The crown prince had grown a bit, face becoming more defined and chest growing broader. Though not quite yet there, Mickey no longer looked like a fourteen-year-old boy who was in the middle of his awkward phase.

 

Almost immediately, Mickey's face did a one-eighty. His expression of annoyance, tight-lipped, scrunched up nose and drawn eyebrows, was replaced by a more open look. Eyebrows raised in surprise, lips twitching into a perplexed smile and eyes softening.

 

Emil had expected Mickey to be happy to see him- maybe hug him out of excitement- but he hadn't expected Mickey to grab a fistful of his shirt and yanked him close. Since when was his boyfriend this strong? Was Mickey about to punch him?

 

Sort of, the answer was yes. It felt almost like he was hit in the face- well, in the mouth, with Mickey's mouth. Okay- that was actually happening.

 

Overcoming the first few seconds of 'my boyfriend is going to punch me' and 'oh- now he's violently kissing me', Emil happily leant in, brushing their noses softly together as they continued to kiss- or at least tried to. He wasn't sure what to do with his arms- and their lips weren't doing much except being pressing together- which honestly was already a whole feat itself.

 

Eventually, maybe after ten seconds when both realised that this wasn't working, Mickey released his death grip and took a step back, blushing like crazy. Kissing was weird- as it was supposed to be an absolutely magical thing- but nevertheless, Emil felt his lips tingle, his heart was beating like it wanted to escape and he shared Mickey's embarrassed blush. He also mirrored Mickey's genuinely happy smile.

 

"I can't believe you're a month early," Mickey said gleefully, actually bouncing a bit on the spot. It was weird to see his acting so out of character- not that Emil minded.

 

"And I can't believe you kissed me," Emil replied immediately, barely even realising what he was saying. "Not that it is a bad thing," he assured hastily. "Just- you caught me off guard."

 

Mickey's giddiness disappeared and was replaced for nerves and insecurities. Why did he always had to run his mouth? "It was terrible," the crown prince murmured, nervously running his hand through his hair. "I just- I wanted to kiss you, and before I lost my nerve I went in," a terribly fake chuckle followed. "I had forgotten that kissing was, well... awkward? Crappy? Nothing like in the stories."

 

"To be honest- I wouldn't have found the nerve," Emil offered Mickey a reassuring smile. "So someone had to take the first step- plus it surely will get better over the time, when, we, you know" he was eighteen- this shouldn't be this embarrassing. "Practice."

 

Thankfully, Mickey seemed more at ease after Emil’s hurried explanation, though not yet as sure of himself as Emil liked to see. "Want to come inside?" the brunet gestured to the door, a faint smile on his lips.

 

After nodding, Emil followed Mickey inside, not really taking in the surrounding. It wasn't like there would be anything different than before- even if so, it surely wouldn't be worth taking his gaze of Mickey. Emil knew Mickey was pretty- beautiful might be even the better word. Breathtaking beautiful. The room was basking in the sun that shone through the windows, capturing Mickey perfectly.

 

Olive skin that seemed to glow gold in the sun, hair looking warm and soft, giving Emil the urge to run his fingers through it. But it was the eyes that were the prettiest. The soft golden tones of Mickey's skin elevated the purplish colour, making the brunet's eyes even a brighter shade of purple and foremost, making them look livelier than Emil had seen in a while.

 

"You're breathtaking," Emil whispered, completely obvious to Mickey monologuing about the work he had done for their alliance arrangement.

 

Mickey stopped pacing around, violet eyes flickering up slightly to meet Emil's gaze. "What did you say?" the brunet sounded almost breathlessly, a blush painting his ears red.

 

"I said that you're breathtaking," Emil repeated softly, offering Mickey a soft, almost vulnerable smile.

 

For a moment, Mickey seemed to be utterly lost for words. "You're killing me," Mickey said, shaking his head almost disappointingly. "Really- you're too sweet," a genuine smile was drawn on Mickey's face. "But aren't you here for another look at the alliance agreement?"

 

Emil shook his head, causing Mickey's expression to turn into one of puzzlement. "You aren't? Then why are you here?"

 

"Well," Emil started, bouncing slightly on his heels. "Less than a year ago, a lovely person offered their home through the entirety of the year, so not just the summer," it brought him joy to see realisation dawn on Mickey's face. "So I took that offer and came early."

 

It was early May, which meant that there was one month of spring left before summer started- which was the usual time for Emil to come and stay at the palace.

 

"Wait- but how did you get here? Did your family escort you?" Mickey asked, a look of concern and slight judgement painting his face. "Or were you reckless and went on your own?"

 

Emil was eternally glad he had decided to _not_ travel alone. The extra company wasn't exactly useful- Emil is pretty sure he was a better fighter than his supposed bodyguard- but now Mickey wouldn't skin him alive.

 

"I travelled with a bodyguard," Emil assured Mickey. "I'm not stupid enough to travel alone- oh, also, two things,"  he suddenly recalled the conversation with JJ he had beforehand when the guard was escorting him to the castle. "Please tell your stable boy that you won't fire him- he thinks you will fire him as soon as you have the chance."

 

"You mean Guang Hong?" Mickey asked, glossing completely over the fact that Emil had been travelling with a bodyguard who was nowhere to be seen.

 

"Yes- the small one with freckles," he didn't know Guang Hong well- he was more of Mickey's friend- but he had seen the small, good-spirited male a few times before, including today.

 

Mickey chuckled heartfully, features softening. "I'll tell that idiot- a request from JJ I take?"

 

Emil nodded. "Yes- also, a heads up, my bodyguard is... well... he has plans to court Sara but-"

 

The fond expression Mickey sported disappeared immediately and was replaced by a murderous look. "What!" he snapped, glaring daggers at Emil. "What chance does a low bodyguard think he has with Sara?"

 

"I was about to explain that I don’t believe that he actually is interested in Sara, judging by the way he reacted when he saw Guang Hong," it had been... weird. Emil honestly had been surprised when his bodyguard actually knew the stable boy- even on a name base. After all, his bodyguard had never left Tschechien, and Guang Hong only had been to Tschechien once- which meant that they must have met that time- yet it seemed... weird for them to meet.

 

Still, Mickey didn't look happy. "So you're saying he's going to try to court my favourite stable boy?" the guy was basically growling.

 

"He's the only stable boy," Emil pointed out. "But I think so- though the feelings are definitely mutual," the bright smile on Guang Hong's face was hard to forget- had he and Mickey looked at each other like that too?

 

"I want to know everything about him- from his name to what his parents do- I'm not letting some ordinary, probably unworthy knight-"

 

"Leo de la Iglesia," Emil cut in, catching Mickey off guard. "First son of Sir Iglesia-"

 

"And the black sheep of the family," Mickey finished, sounding sympathetic. "I heard about him- he helps out in the gardens of the palace- acting like a commoner. His parents are ashamed of it and have been trying to marry him off for years, but it never worked out," a sad smile played on Mickey's lips. "People love to gossip, especially about family drama so yeah- I heard that name before."

 

This marked the end of the discussion. It wasn’t their life- he and Mickey didn't have to struggle with the injustice of being born in the wrong family, whenever the family was rich or not. Emil had met plenty of people who were happy as commoners and plenty who were happy as people of high status. But both parties could also be equally unhappy- as money was always an issue _and_ money couldn't solve everything.

 

"But- if you're staying here until the end of summer," Mickey sounded ecstatic- and Emil couldn't blame him. It had been three years since his last summer here. "Where are you staying? Your old bedroom?"

 

Honestly, Emil hadn't thought about it. His luggage surely would be dropped off in his old bedroom- but he wasn't sure if he wanted to sleep there. After all, Mickey's bed looked very inviting. "I think," Emil started, sitting down on the edge of Mickey's bed. "I've gotten rather fond of this room in particular- I don't know why though."

 

Mickey sat down next to him, legs bumping and shoulders touching. "Really? My room?" the brunet asked cheekily. "You want to switch?"

 

Emil pulled his face into an exaggerated thinking expression. "Hmm, I'm not sure," he started, fingers seeking out Mickey's. "I mean- there is a particular reason I like this room a lot."

 

To his delight, his fingers bumped in Mickey's halfway. As if they were born to be together, their fingers intertwined in a perfect fit. "May I know what this particular reason is?"

 

"You."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, the ride is finally over. I wanted to get this done earlier, but another project got in the way and sudden college decided to be like 'I'm back ***'. But now I pretty much passed first year of college so... I got it done, eventually, it didn't help that I threw half of this in the trashcan, I started to read Percy Jackson and the weather was murderous warm...
> 
> So, uhm, I hope I didn't disappoint! It's a bit short, but I wanted to keep it fluffy with a bit forecasting for a possible sequel that will come once I finished the rest of my project and have outlined it... (an outline is pretty nice actually).
> 
> I probably am forgetting something, but thank you so much for reading! It had been a joyful and exciting ride and it's nice to finally write a fantasy like story- even without the magic.


End file.
